


Fairer than Death

by imissedyourskin



Series: Fairer than Death [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 1970s, Depression, Drugs, F/M, M/M, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imissedyourskin/pseuds/imissedyourskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's band, Nicotine Dreams, is about to go on tour again, but something is different this time: Pete has an intern. Brendon Jackson makes Ryan want to strangle someone, but when he finds out Brendon's gay, things change. Ryan never expected to fall in love, let alone fall in love with a guy. And just when everything seems to be looking up, it turns out Brendon isn't who Ryan thought he was. (1970s fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

**PART 1:**

**Step 1: July 1st**

**Step 2: July 16th**

**Step 3: July 31st**

 

**PART 2 & 3:**

**unknown...**

           

 


	2. Step 1: Put your heart in a coffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan was holding up his towel with one hand, touching Brendon's face with the other and the younger boy's hands were on his waist, moving them to some place new every second, fingers trembling. He rubbed his palms flat over Ryan's chest, moving up, over Ryan's shoulders before his fingernails scratched down his back and slowly padded up again.  
> It took a while for them to break apart and when they did both of them were panting. They smiled at each other and Brendon chuckled, "it's been a few hours since you apologised for kissing me, so.. when can I expect the next I'm-not-gay-and-I-didn't-love-that speech?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels surreal that I am finally posting this.  
> I started writing this baby for nanowrimo aka last November and now It's summer and I'm posting.
> 
> So hi, welcome to this fic. I hope you like it.  
> Pls leave me a comment or whatever if u like it that'll help me finish part 3 :-----)
> 
> xoxo

**Name: George Ryan Ross III**

**Date of birth: 30th of August 1952**

**Son of a war veteran that died of alcohol poisoning in 1969. Mother left in 1963 because of family problems.**

**Possible alcoholic. Smokes. Drug use.**

**Has never been in an official relationship, more of a one night stand type.  
  
**

 

**May 1974**

"Ryan," Pete said as he got up and quickly patted Ryan's back before he made him sit down, "twenty minutes late, but you're here."

Ryan knew his manager didn't like wasting time, and maybe that's why he had set his alarm fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to. "I'm here, aren't I? now what's up?" He asked, sounding as uninterested as he felt.

Pete however looked excited, a grin on his face that created dimples in his cheeks, "well, I wanted to let you know that I'll be getting an intern to work for me, at least this tour and the possible Europe tour following." "Which goddamn Europe tour?" Ryan sat up in his chair, all ears. "The one I wanted to discuss with you," Pete said calmly.

His manager was used to his anger and Ryan knew that he was a spoilt brat, but he simply didn't like Europe. "There's nothing to discuss. If we have to do a Europe tour then I'm only doing the UK, France and the Netherlands the rest is out of luck," He said with his arms crossed. Those three countries were the only countries he could handle, and only because of what they had to offer: music stores, romance and weed.

Pete sighed, "Ryan, you're not the only one in this band. Patrick is open to anything, he doesn't care where we go. William wants Spain so he can visit his old band mate Gabe and Alex wants Germany. We need you in Ry, don't be a pain in the ass. Don't make me force you."

Ryan huffed, "without me there is no Nicotine Dreams, Pete. You need me most, whether you like it or not."

Pete knew this as well, but he didn't let Ryan's words affect him and Ryan admired him for that. His manager stayed silent, watching Ryan with no emotion visible on his face until the singer caved.

"Fine, but I want more than one date in the UK and France, or else there's no deal," He ordered. Pete gave in, of course he did, it was either this or no tour at all, "you have a deal."  
Ryan got up then, turning around to leave the office because he knew they were done.

"Ryan," Pete said, stopping him in his tracks, and Ryan turned back to see Pete giving him the 'now-listen-to-me' look he had mastered so well after a year of working with the band, "the kid, his name's Brendon and he'll join us tomorrow. He's one year younger than you, but be nice to him or I swear I'll make sure he never brings you your morning coffee."

Pete knew how much Ryan needed coffee in the morning, and Ryan gave a quick nod to show he understood. He liked to think that he was Pete's boss, but the truth was that Pete had enough power to ruin his career which was why, sometimes, but only sometimes, he would listen to him.

Ryan left Pete's office, made his way down the stairs to the beat of a tune that was stuck in his head and walked into the late afternoon sun. He slid his sunglasses back on his face, blinking up against the sky before making his way down the street to where the tour bus was. He climbed the steps, walking through the bunk area until he reached the back where Patrick and William were playing poker.

"Alex not here yet?" Ryan asked with a sigh, frustrated that his band mate was late again. "No, he called though. He'll be here in 20 minutes."

Ryan rolled his eyes and walked back to the bunk area, smiling when he found out the bunk beneath his was empty and he immediately used it to stock his suitcase so he didn't have to unpack. If he did it would be a mess within forty-eight hours anyway. They were never good at keeping the bus clean and after tour Ryan would probably find back only half of the stuff he had brought with him on day one.

He made his way back to his other band mates, dropping down in one of the four chairs and watching them playing poker, "I agreed to the Europe tour," he announced.

William smiled at this, "cool, I can't wait," and Patrick raised an eyebrow, "you agreed without throwing a tantrum? That's new." Ryan shrugged, "I did tell Pete what I wanted and he didn't argue with me like he did last time so I agreed." Patrick hummed, placing down his royal flush for William to see, "glad that's settled then." Ryan could feel his best friend was done talking about the tour.

Patrick Stump was the only person that Ryan really trusted. He kept Ryan from going completely insane or turning into the most selfish person in the world. Mostly, Patrick just kept him guarded even when he was angry at the world. His friend was the main reason Ryan was still in the music business, because god knows it's not the ideal job. He had learnt to get tougher though, demanding the things he wanted in return for his collaboration.

"So, you ready for tour Ryan?" William asked as he dealt more cards for him and Patrick, glancing at the two cards in his hands before looking back at Ryan. He shrugged, "tour will be fun, I'd rather just spend my days in bed though."

"Well Alex surely agrees with you," Patrick mumbled and William laughed at his words. Ryan just huffed, "I bet. I'll be in my bunk writing lyrics, let me know when we're leaving." They stayed silent as he left and Ryan closed the door between the back lounge and the bunks, turning on the small record player they kept there before he crawled up in his bunk. He didn't close the curtain, didn't mind that people would walk by as he wrote in his notebook. The words he wrote would soon be for the entire world to see so there was no point in hiding.

He really hoped that tour wouldn't be as much of a disaster as it had been last time, and he hoped that things would finally go smoothly. Maybe he'd meet a girl that would stay for longer than a month. Maybe fans would finally give him some space. Wishful thinking that was, he knew, most likely things would be the same as always, and Ryan wondered if in a week he'd still mind as much.

He climbed out of his bunk when he heard the bus door open and Alex got on, "hey Ry," his friend smiled and Ryan smiled back, "hey Ax." "Sorry I'm late, but we can leave now. Stupid traffic," Alex said apologetically, but Ryan hummed, "last minute quickie with the girlfriend?" Alex looked guilty and Ryan laughed quietly, "my lips are sealed, don't worry."

They both joined Patrick and William in the back lounge, watching them finish their hand of cards, which Patrick eventually won.

William threw the cards on the table, "god Patrick, how do you do it," he grumbled, sounding frustrated that he kept losing. They laughed and Alex rubbed William's back, "it's okay William, you can ask him to help you out, but I fear that would hurt your ego." William narrowed his eyes at Alex, "don't you even start that shit with me, Greenwald."

"Ryan!" Pete yelled from the front of the bus and Ryan sighed as he got up, leaving his friends behind, "yes mom, what now?"  
He rolled his eyes as he saw Pete standing at his bunk. His manager opened the curtain below Ryan's bunk, the one where his suitcase lay, "this needs to go, because Brendon needs to have a place to sleep as well and you just stole it."

Ryan cocked an eyebrow, "he's sleeping on the bus? What is he, your watchdog?" which made Pete sigh, "no, but we have one spot left on the bus so grow up and move your stuff."  
"Yes, sir," Ryan rolled his eyes once again and turned around, although Pete's voice stopped him from walking away, "Ryan, now." His shoulders slumped and he turned back, staring at Pete with narrowed eyes, "fine, Pete," he said mockingly, "you're such a party-pooper." Pete didn't reply and walked off, "you have two hours Ryan, better start."

-

When Ryan first saw Brendon the guy was wearing an ugly dark brown dress shirt with a pattern that matched the old carpet his 80 year-old neighbour used to have. He had awful sideburns, big lips that made him look like he was stung by a bee and he was wearing the ugliest shoes Ryan had ever seen.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?" Ryan asked, staring him down.

"Hi, I'm Brendon Jackson and I'm the new intern. I'll be doing Pete's job mostly, sometimes with him around and sometimes without," Brendon nodded, a toothy grin on his face. Ryan got a headache simply by looking at the boy and all his excitement, the way he was almost bouncing off the walls of the tour bus and quite frankly the bus was too small to contain so much energy at- he stopped to check his watch- 9am.

"Cool, get me a coffee. Black, " Ryan mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and waited for Brendon to disappear. The boy looked at him for a second before he remembered what his job was, nodding before he turned away to get him coffee.

Ryan stumbled into the lounge, seeing Patrick already there with a bowl of cereal in his hands as he watched some uninteresting nature documentary on the small TV. "Did you see that guy? I give him a week before he quits the job," Ryan chuckled as he reached for his pack of cigarettes on the table.

Patrick looked at him, "you know I don't like you smoking this early, right? And yeah, I give him a month; someone has to stay positive right?" Ryan ignored the comment about the cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag from the stick as he closed his eyes and tipped back his head.

He slowly blew the smoke back out, "you might be a bit too positive. Either he quits or he loses all the energy he has right now. That's just what rock and roll does to you."  
Patrick raised an eyebrow at Ryan's words, "Oh boohoo, spare me the emo talk, Ross. Maybe it's just what rock and roll did to you."

Ryan couldn't argue that. Rock and roll had changed him. It had made him angry and depressed, he wasn't going to lie about that. It had however gotten him a lot of good as well.  
The door opened and Brendon bounced back in, a whole jar of coffee in his hand, "do you have a cup?" he asked, trying not to drop the jar and spill all the coffee. Ryan nodded, "first cupboard, lower shelf," he stayed seated, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Brendon looked a little pissed off that Ryan wouldn't help, but it simply wasn't his job. It wasn't in the contract and if it wasn't in the contract then Ryan wouldn't do it.

Brendon managed to get out an ugly pink mug, probably his way of taking revenge, and he harshly placed it in front of Ryan. Despite his clear annoyance he stayed civil. He didn't even make a sound. Ryan went just a step further, blowing smoke in the guy's face and Brendon clearly had to keep himself in check then. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, nostrils flaring a little.

"The puppet and the puppeteer," Ryan smiled, but instead of receiving a reply Brendon simply walked away, his shoulders tense and his head held high.

"Ryan, play nice," Patrick complained, not even looking away from the TV, and Ryan shrugged because he didn't care.

The ending to their first meeting was bitter, something Ryan was pretty much used to. He was however unaware of the consequences of his behaviour. First impressions are always important, aren't they?

-

"Goodnight Vegas! You look beautiful tonight," Ryan said into the microphone as he softly strummed his guitar. "We're Nicotine Dreams, and we'll be your source of entertainment if only for tonight," William took over with a sly grin.

Ryan stepped back to look at the crowd, the twenty thousand people that were there to watch them play. It made him nervous, but he loved his band and knew they were good. Patrick on the drums behind him, William on his right with his guitar and Alex on his left with the bass.

There was a long set list on the floor where one of the roadies had written down the list that Ryan had given him hours before. They started with a song that was mostly instrumental, just so all of them could get used to performing again. Ryan could see the girls that stood front row swooning as he looked at them. He smiled, focus back on his guitar as his solo started, including the most difficult picking part he had ever written.

The crowd went wild, girls screaming loudly and Ryan wished that this was what he did it for. The reaction of the fans was supposed to be his reason to make music, but Ryan was a selfish person. The only one he made music for was himself, and he hated to see twenty thousand people scream along to lyrics that didn't have anything to do with their lives. Maybe a few of them had gone through the same, but most of them had no idea what the songs were about and Ryan sometimes wished he had kept them to himself. It was way too late to turn back now though, so he sang like he always would, his eyes closed and his thoughts turned off.

William's voice joined in the song and Ryan remembered how he was not alone in this.  
Song after song was crossed off the list and before he knew it they walked off, preparing for the encore. "That was good, wasn't it? Great first show," Alex said with a huge smile as he wiped his face with a towel.

Ryan didn't reply, took one of the water bottles that he downed quickly before he turned back. The crowd was already screaming their name and Ryan was ready to finish up. He wanted to go out and get drunk already.

"Okay, let's go," He said, walking on stage first where he picked up his guitar again, "alright Vegas, I bet you all know this one. This is called 'Slowlights'." Ryan strummed the first notes by himself until Alex added the bass and William played along until eventually Patrick's drums brought it all together.

He was sweaty and tired, glad when the last notes filled the venue and he could take off his guitar for the night. He was the first one backstage, all but running to the dressing room to get ready for their night out.

It was tradition that the band would go out together the night of the first show, so once they finished up, all four of them dressed in clean clothes, fixed their hair and were guided to three black cars outside.

"Why three, do I have my own?" Ryan asked Pete as the guy appeared next to him, looking sweaty and stressed. His manager shook his head, "I’m having some trouble with the support act, I need to take care of this. Brendon will go in my place, and that's why there is a third car." Ryan frowned, "I want the third car, Brendon can join Patrick." He didn't even wait for a reply before he walked towards the last car, getting in and leaning back in the dark leather seat. Sometimes it was tiring to be around the same people night and day and Ryan had never been the most social person either. He needed alone time, and knowing that there would most likely be fans in the club wasn't helping.

His friends didn't bother joining him, knew that Ryan needed the space and he felt grateful when he saw Patrick pull an overexcited Brendon with him into the car in front of his.  
The club they went to was huge, which Ryan preferred because if the club was smaller and a fan would find him, it would be even more difficult to shake them off.

The bouncer greeted him with a polite, "mister Ross," and he stepped away to grant him access. Ryan didn't waste any time and immediately pushed his way through the sea of bodies to get to the bar.

"Whiskey please," He said, and with the way the bartender looked at him as if he was about to pass out he knew he didn't have to bother with legitimation. He smiled as he got his drink, immediately ordering a second one before he turned to stare at all the people.  
It was hard to find a girl that sparked his interest, and the ones that did were already dancing with others. It was the one disadvantage of getting late to a party.

Someone came up to him, standing near as he leaned against the bar. "Hey," Brendon yelled over the loud music, drink in his hand and his hip cocked out to the side. "Hey," Ryan replied as he leaned against the bar, staring Brendon down.

His sense of style was so bad that it hurt to watch him. Brendon was wearing a simple black top with black skinny jeans, which really were the only two things that were normal about him. His boots were a yellowish golden colour and made him look like a cowboy. He even wore a matching belt that had Ryan almost laughing out loud.

"Are you having fun?" Brendon yelled after he took a sip of his drink and it physically hurt Ryan to see how badly he was trying to fit in. He was clearly failing.  
"Yeah, it's an alright party," He replied before he turned to point at the back door, hinting at wanting a smoke and Brendon gave a quick nod before he followed.

Ryan was glad to be outside, the fresh air was better than all the sweat he could smell inside and he quickly lit a cigarette before he handed his pack to Brendon. The night was warm, late September air humid in this part of California and Ryan let the top button of his shirt pop as he blew out small clouds of smoke.

"So," He started, "I'm going to need you to come over to my hotel room tomorrow late afternoon, say about three hours before sound check. Can you do that?"

Brendon looked caught off guard, blinking his wide Bambi eyes as he stared at Ryan in confusion. His lips were parted and dry, and Brendon licked them before he replied, "I- I didn't know you swing that way." Ryan nearly dropped the cigarette, gaping at Brendon in surprise, "what? God, no, it's not about sex. I'm straight, trust me."

This didn't seem to calm Brendon down, in fact it made him look even more panicky and Ryan caught up quickly, "no way, do you- do you swing that way?" He grinned as if he knew a big secret, which it kind of was. The new intern, the guy everyone –well, everyone but Ryan- treated with respect, was gay. If only they knew, then Brendon would be treated a whole lot differently.

"Shut up Ryan, I don't like it when people know my preference,” Brendon hissed quietly and he narrowed his eyes at Ryan.

Ryan snorted, "well excuse me, but you're working for me, I will know about your preference if I want to. Besides, it's good I know because now I can help you find the guy of your dreams. Or like, great one night stands if that's your thing of course." He took another drag of his cig, focusing on blowing smoke rings rather than looking at Brendon.

"I don't need your help," Brendon snarled as he stubbed his cigarette bud and tried to walk away. Ryan grabbed his wrist though, pulling him back and snarling right back at him, "okay you know what, stop feeling so offended, I know I'm an ass but you just have to learn to deal with it." He let go then, staring at Brendon's face, "see you tomorrow, don't you dare to forget."

Brendon walked away, but this time with a little less anger in his posture. Ryan counted it as a win. He waited another five minutes before he went back inside, immediately being attacked by a drunk girl, "Ryan! I love you man." Ryan nodded quickly, not drunk or desperate enough to take up on her silent offer, "thank you, but I have to go."

He pushed past her, trying to get to the bar and order another drink. Tonight just wasn't going to be his night.

-

"Where do you see yourself in a year?" The pretty blonde girl asked, eagerly holding out her tape recorder. Ryan swirled his whiskey glass around in his hand as he tried not to snap at her. She was pretty, but Ryan had a hangover from hell and had been asked that same question about a hundred times before.

He pushed his sunglasses further up his nose, "still on top," he answered, watching her face light up in awe. "And you will be, of course you will be. Next question then. Can you tell me who this Zooey girl is that you sing about in track 6 of your album?" She asked and Ryan had answered before he could even think about it, "what makes you think she's real?"  
The careful smile the interviewer had been wearing disappeared again. "I mean, she could be made up. No one ever thinks about that," He explained. The girl, Ryan had already forgotten her name again, nodded as if she understood, "so, she's not real?"  
"No, she is, but she could have been made up, that's my point," Ryan said. "Okay," The girl seemingly didn't understand him, and he didn't blame her. After all she didn't understand how his brain worked, not a lot of people did.

When he was finished, he found one of the roadies that usually bought them all the stuff they needed on the road; cigarettes, liquor and even clothes. Especially clothes. "Aaron, you need to go to town and buy me all of this," he handed the guy a list with all the stuff he wanted and once his hands were empty he got out a cigarette immediately.

"Why?" Aaron asked, which annoyed Ryan and he decided not to answer until he had properly lit his cigarette. "I thought you were hired to do work, not to ask questions. I need it, so get it for me and bring it to my hotel room. I need it as soon as possible so like, bring someone along."

Aaron nodded, clearly upset that Ryan had addressed his behaviour but he left quicker than he would have done otherwise and so Ryan didn't feel guilty.

"Ryan!" Pete yelled and he turned to face his manager, "you have another interview now! How damn often do I have to tell you your schedule? I said 'stay in the same room' now how fucking difficult is that?!"

Ryan let him rant, rolling his eyes as he followed. It was the same situation every time he had a day of press and Pete should know it wouldn't ever be any different.

The interviews were as boring as ever and by the time he was done Ryan felt as if he had given the same answers over and over again. Like it was some sort of loop he got stuck in and every time it started over the person in front of him changed but that was all.

A shiny black car brought him back to the hotel and Ryan smoked two full cigarettes on the ride and then another one on his way to his room. As promised, the room was filled with brown paper bags that were filled with clothes and a card that said 'got you a discount, the receipt is in here as well in case something's wrong. Aaron' He shouldn't forget to tell Pete to give the guy some extra money.

He took a shower then, jerking off lazily as he leaned against the ugly white tiles. Up so far today sucked and it would need a lot of alcohol and a possible lay to make it better again.

When he got out of the shower he looked at the clock on the wall, Brendon was supposed to be there soon. He got himself a glass of vodka and a cigarette and reached for his notebook on the table. He sat on his bed then and opened it, going back to the lyrics he had written and he tried to find a possible tune to match it. He had been trying to find the right sound for days now, but he still hadn't found it. He sighed and tried something different, tapping his pen against his notebook.

When his glass was empty he got up to fill it again. He checked the time, seeing that Brendon was late already. He shook his head in frustration and swirled the see-through liquid around in his glass, "fucking interns."

He was smoking his third cigarette by the time Brendon finally showed up, an hour later than he had asked the intern to come over.

Ryan opened the door, leaning against it lazily, "you're late, do you want to get fired this early in the game?"

Brendon sighed audibly, silent for a minute before he spoke. To his disappointment it wasn't a reply to the comment Ryan had made. "So, why did you want me here?" Brendon was wearing a silver sparkling shirt and dark blue jeans. He had his hip cocked out again and Ryan wondered how he hadn't noticed how Brendon was clearly gay. Maybe it had to do with the fact that no one accepted homosexuality and therefore people didn’t believe fags existed.  
"Well, clearly you need my help," He said as he closed the door behind Brendon and he touched the younger boy's shirt. Brendon immediately reacted as if he had gotten burnt, "what? Why would I ever need your help?" Ryan chuckled pleasantly, turning back to the mini bar in his room and getting Brendon a glass as well, "here, drink."

Brendon eyed him suspiciously, "I don't drink alcohol." "What are you, a wuss?" Ryan joked, but Brendon didn't seem entertained. "No, just- bad experiences okay, let it go Ross," He said, placing his drink back on the bar, "now, why am I here?"

"Take off your shirt," Ryan said, pointing at the awful piece of clothing. Brendon stared at him and then shook his head in surprise, "incredible. Here I came thinking you had something important to discuss and you ask me to take my clothes off? I might be gay but I'm just as picky as a straight guy," he looked angry again, as if Ryan had attacked him.

"You really need to take a chill pill Brendon or I might have to go talk to Pete," Ryan said, one eyebrow raised. Brendon's face resembled the one Ryan had seen in the alley the night before, a look of pure fear, "what, no, please. This internship is so important to me, you don't understand."

Ryan let himself fall back on his bed, careful not to spill his drink, "then stop being so damn defensive. I didn't do anything that justifies the way you treat me, and you work for me. You should be bowing for me if I asked for it." He sat up again, "however, I like how you just don't seem to care that you're working for one of the most famous bands of the moment, possible one of the most famous bands of all time may I dare say. You have character, but you're trying too hard to fit into this lifestyle." Brendon's posture relaxed, his face softening a little at Ryan's words.

"Now, take off that shirt," Ryan said, waving his hand as if to tell him to hurry. Brendon took a deep breath, Ryan could see his chest rise and fall before he pulled it over his head instead of unbuttoning it. Ryan tried not to look too obviously, didn't want to give the fag any ideas, but he couldn't help but notice how Brendon's body was toned, slight muscles underneath tanned skin and Ryan was a little jealous.

He downed his drink and got up, placing the empty glass on the bar next to Brendon's full one before he moved away to pick up the pair of scissors he had placed there. "Give it to me," He ordered and Brendon threw the piece of clothing his way.

Ryan didn't even look if he was doing it properly as he started to cut the bottom half off. "Your sense of style is very 'disco'. Unfortunately we aren't 'disco' but rock and therefore your whole wardrobe needs to be replaced with suitable clothing."

Brendon crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I actually like what I wear, why would I want to change that?" Ryan laughed, he actually laughed no matter if it was offensive or not, "you're kidding me right? You look like someone blindfolds you every day and makes you pick out an outfit at random." "Like you look any better," Brendon bit back in frustration which made Ryan laugh again, "I was in the top 3 best dressed artists last year, want to argue with that?" Brendon dropped his arms besides him, shoulders hunched, "fine, you win Ross. What do I do?"

Ryan grinned, "Well, this is why I asked you to come over. I got you some new clothes, no need to thank me really it will be satisfying enough to see that you're not struggling, and I want you to try them on." He retrieved the bags with clothes from beside the bed and threw all of them on the duvet. "Ryan, you didn't have to do this. I work for you, not the other way around," Brendon said softly, staring at the clothes on the bed that were now his. Ryan didn't reply to that, grabbed the first set of clothes, "put this on, you can do it here or in the bathroom whatever you feel comfortable with."

He turned back to the clothes, picking out more sets that he liked. There was a lot of black and dark blue, some white and gray as well, but no bright colours like the ones Brendon used to wear.

"Am I supposed to look as if I'm a depressed homeless person?" Brendon asked a few minutes later and Ryan turned to see him step out of the bathroom in dark jeans and a vest, "that's maybe because you're wearing that vest backwards." Ryan laughed, making Brendon smile in turn as he walked up to the younger boy to help him put it on correctly.

"That's way better," Ryan said with a quick nod. "Yeah?" Brendon asked, looking a little unsure and Ryan hummed approvingly, "you'll get used to it, trust me."

Brendon pulled on his shirt, trying to get it to cover all of his stomach as he mumbled, "okay then, what else have we got? We might want to move on if we want to finish before sound check.” Ryan handed him the next pair, "I like your thinking, go on then," and he smiled a little as Brendon walked off again, shaking his ass in his new jeans.

The intern was surprisingly fun to be around. Ryan was especially surprised because the guy was younger - and gay - and he had thought it would make a big difference, which it really didn't.

He poured himself another drink, swirling it around in the glass as he smiled to himself. "I like this outfit," He heard about a minute later and he looked up, almost dropping his glass. Brendon was wearing black leather pants with a grey fitting sleeveless top. Ryan blinked, "wow okay, I'm saying this in a completely platonic way but this outfit would get you any guy in the club, even the straight ones." He drank from his glass as he walked to Brendon and pushed a hand through his hair, "this needs to be messier. You're gay it wouldn't hurt to wear some eyeliner as well."

Brendon smiled, tipping his head to the side, "Ryan Ross is warming up to me, how exciting." "No I'm not" Ryan said, offended, and he pushed Brendon's shoulder. Brendon kept smiling though "yeah, now you just sound like me." Ryan huffed, "okay enough, next outfit. Try to pick something yourself."

Brendon didn't go back inside the bathroom to get dressed, he stayed in the room and Ryan felt a little awkward. "Just so you know, this doesn't make us friends. I just want to not laugh at you whenever I see you," Ryan said with his back turned to Brendon. "uhu, you keep telling yourself that," Brendon said in return, sounding way too smug. "I can take this all back in a heartbeat okay, don't think you have power over me," Ryan said a little more seriously now. "I know I don't, but is it really that hard for you to be nice to someone in return?" Brendon asked. "I don't do nice, nice won't get me anything in this business," Ryan said and he turned to watch Brendon button up his jeans.

He was wearing red jeans that Ryan didn't know had been in the bag and a black v-neck that showed off Brendon's collarbones. "Okay what the hell, why did you never dress up like this it suits you so much better than cowboy boots and glitter tops," Ryan said, taking his scissors again along with Brendon's old shirt and he started to cut it in smaller pieces.

Brendon smiled, "I guess I was never aware of what suits me," he shrugged then, "I think I'm going to keep this on. And I feel like it's time for me to leave before we start fighting." Ryan felt a pang of guilt for making Brendon think that way, but he looked away so Brendon wouldn't see his face, "whatever."

The younger boy gathered the bags, "you know, this was really nice of you." Ryan could hear the softness in his voice and he wanted to look at him to see if he was smiling, but he didn't.  
He heard Brendon walk away, the paper bags hitting his legs as he walked and he didn't say goodbye as the door opened. It felt way too silent and gloomy once the door had closed again. Ryan stared at Brendon's still full glass of whiskey, untouched and calling his name, and caved.

-

**June 1974**

"Guys I'm sorry but I'm knackered, early night for me," Ryan said as he climbed off of his stool in the piss-smelling bar. The rest of his band was laughing and drinking beer, Patrick drinking whiskey even, but Ryan just wanted to go. The bartender was a clear closet case gay guy and Ryan had been staring at Brendon and trying to get him to flirt with the man, but Brendon seemed to have no interest in the guy whatsoever.

All of them started to annoy him and so he waved goodnight, only stopping when Brendon jumped up as well, "wait, my room is next to yours. I still have some school work to do so I'll walk with you."

The other guys didn't look like they minded, but Ryan did. The others didn't know about how they were starting to become friends, but Ryan did. If he would be friends with Brendon and the guys would find out about his sexuality, Ryan would be a dead man. He didn't see the harm in them walking back to the hotel together though, so he let Brendon join him.

"You know, I can wait with my work and we could hang out some," Brendon said once they reached the hotel. "I said I'm knackered, is that foreign language to you?" Ryan asked with a sigh. "You're not though, I could see you were just irritated. You don't seem as tense now anymore," Brendon said and Ryan glared at him.

"Who are you to judge? I tried to help you hook up and you didn't even notice the guy," He said. The younger boy shrugged, "I did. Nice; a cocaine junkie. Great pick Ryan." "How did you know he-," Ryan started and Brendon sighed, "I could see the white power on his nose, god Ryan do you ever really look at people?"

Ryan felt anger flare up, "who cares that I'm not some- some Sherlock Holmes, no one said I have to be." Brendon only smiled at this, "your room or mine?" Ryan didn't reply, and Brendon didn't ask again, but when he walked up to his own room Brendon followed.

Ryan decided he didn't want to get angry again so he let Brendon in, immediately finding the mini bar and getting out the strongest drink he could find, fixing them both a glass.

"Do you have a short term memory problem Ryan, I don't drink remember?" Brendon asked with a raised eyebrow and Ryan groaned, "I know, I was just hoping maybe you'd make an exception. Maybe alcohol will make you less annoying." Brendon put down his glass, "I don't make exceptions ever. Give up trying because you'll only get more frustrated."

They sat down on the bed and Ryan stared at the ceiling for a while. It was a boring ceiling, plain white with dark spots where water had reached the wallpaper. This was supposed to be a first class hotel, but it was kind of a pathetic excuse of a hotel.

"No, but seriously, Brendon, why don't you drink?" Ryan asked as he stared at his glass. Brendon stayed silent at Ryan's question and he wondered if the boy had fallen asleep. "I lost someone in an accident with a drunk driver," He then said, voice soft and Ryan closed his eyes, "someone?"

He turned his face to look at Brendon who lay on his back on the bed, "my last boyfriend. We had been dating for a year, went out to celebrate our anniversary and then our car got hit by a drunk driver. He died instantly and I was in the hospital for three weeks."

"I'm sorry," Ryan said. He stared at his glass again before he put it down on the bedside table, "were you in love with- him?" Ryan had some trouble saying him instead of her, but he knew right now wasn't the moment to freak out over something that small.

Brendon took another minute to answer, "Yeah, I guess so. He was going to ask me to move in with him, he tried to keep it a secret but I knew. I knew all about him."

Ryan tried not to be jealous, because he had never been in love and here Brendon was talking to him about how great he and his boyfriend had been. Then again, the guy was dead now so it wasn't as if Brendon still had the picture perfect relationship.

"Have you ever been in love Ryan? Because you write about love and girls, but is it from experience or is it your view on love?" Brendon asked then, and Ryan sat up to turn to him. "I haven't. I've had girlfriends since I was fourteen, but I've never been in love. My longest relationship lasted three months, how pathetic is that," He chuckled, hating himself for being so honest.

"It's not, it just means you haven't found the right person yet," Brendon said as he placed his hand over Ryan's. Ryan stared at their hands with a confused frown and the words on his tongue had slipped out before he could control himself, "are you trying to hit on me?"  
Brendon pulled his hand back immediately, placing it in his lap. "what?" "You heard me, are you trying to hit on me?" Ryan repeated when it turned out Brendon tone wasn't angry as he had expected. The younger boy didn't look at him but played with his hands in his lap, "the fact that I'm gay doesn't mean I hit on every guy I meet. You're my boss, you could fire me in a heartbeat." It didn't sound like denial and Ryan jumped up, scaring Brendon a little.  
"So you do fancy me," He grinned and he sat down on the bed next to the younger guy, looking him down, "I don't blame you though, I'm Ryan Ross after all."

Brendon cleared his throat, "No it's just- well I can't deny you are attractive, but it's not-," Ryan interrupted by pressing a finger against Brendon's lips. "So I'm attractive?" He grinned and Brendon shrugged, "what do you want to hear Ryan?" "Oh nothing, don't worry about it," Ryan said, silent until an idea formed in his head. "No actually- I would like to know if you would kiss me," He said, pouting his lips and batting his eyelashes.

Brendon huffed, "god you're so selfish. What if I would like to know if you would kiss me, would you give me an honest answer? I bet you wouldn't. You judge, you hate, you want to be adored and quite frankly it-," Ryan stopped Brendon's rant by leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a harsh kiss.

Brendon struggled for a moment, trying to get away but then he went limp and kissed him back, a hand carefully coming up to curl in his shirt.

Ryan pulled away again then, grinning brightly, "oh, you so kissed me back," he said and Brendon closed his eyes, "very funny. You're such a joker." Ryan laughed, "Are you missing my lips already?" Brendon didn't think this was as funny though, "you know if you hadn't been my boss I would have so hit you right now."

Ryan rolled away from Brendon and got up on his feet to pick up his beer bottle again, "well, I am your boss so too bad for you I guess. It was fun, now I definitely know I'm not gay," he said, trying to piss the younger boy off even more.

It worked though, because Brendon got up from the bed and picked up his coat, "you know, I wish I had stayed with the rest of the group because you really are an ass." Ryan shrugged, "maybe your crush will disappear now, you can hate me, I don't care."

Brendon stopped at those words, "that's the thing though. I'm not saying you care about me, but you care Ryan. You care about some things even though you say you don't. And you might fool others but you won't fool me. And I won't stop trying to get through in that stupid little head of yours because you let me in here for a reason even if that reason is unknown to you right now." Brendon buttoned up his coat and turned on his heels, slamming the door behind him and Ryan's victorious feeling had melted like snow before the sun.

"Yeah, well don't think you know shit, because you don't!" He screamed even though Brendon was long gone by then. Ryan smashed his hand against the wall, cursing Brendon Jackson; his attitude, how he clearly wasn't influenced by Ryan's offensiveness and lastly his lips. Especially his lips.

-

He didn't sleep well that night and he was the first one to get on the bus. It was an early bus call, 5am, and Ryan knew the other guys would go back to sleep as soon as they got their asses in there. He climbed in his bunk already and shut the curtain so no one would bother him. His band mates slowly started to show up as well, either climbing into their bunks or getting into the back lounge and Ryan waited for the curtain below him to open.

Brendon was one of the last to get on, and he didn't waste any time getting into his bunk. He didn't even stand there to see if Ryan was on the bus already. It made Ryan turn onto his side, back towards the curtain and he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

He shouldn't have kissed the intern, should have sent him away when he had reached his room.

The bus was silent apart from the humming of the engine as they drove and the slight movement from the road and Ryan eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up he could hear the soft murmur of voices in the back lounge and he figured it had to be late morning already. He was about to swing his legs out of the cramped space when he heard Brendon. The boy was humming softly and Ryan heard something that sounded a lot like pages being flipped.

He slowly opened his curtain just enough to look outside. All the bunks were empty apart from his and Brendon's and Ryan could see on the clock that it was half past noon already. He lay there thinking for a moment, knowing he had to do something about this fucked up situation before Brendon would tell everyone what had happened. He swallowed and manned up, climbing out of his bunk and taking a deep breath before he threw open Brendon's curtain and spoke up.

"Okay listen up Brendon, because I'm only saying this once," he said.

Brendon was on his back, reading a dusty book that Ryan couldn't see the title of. The intern didn't acknowledge him and Ryan felt a little irritated. "Look, I'm sorry alright? I apologize," He said, voice going from annoyed to honest. Brendon looked at him then, "apologize for what?"

Just like that the frustration was back again and he took the book from Brendon's hands, slamming it shut, "you know damn well why I'm apologizing," he hissed, looking at the door between the bunks and back lounge, hoping no one would come look for either one of them.  
"No, I don't Ryan, explain it to me," Brendon was smiling as he dared him to say it.

Ryan took a deep calming breath which made Brendon laugh even more, "you're such a chicken, you can't even say it." Ryan grabbed Brendon's arm tightly, seconds away from yelling at the intern, "I can okay, don't be this arrogant. I'm sorry I- Ikissedyou," he rushed the last words, looking at the door instead of Brendon. "I know I shouldn't have. I just wanted to tease you and it got out of hand," He added as he let go of Brendon's arm again.

Brendon was quiet for a while, "yeah you can say that. No feelings?" Ryan nodded, "no feelings." They stared at each other until Brendon broke the silence, "can I have my book back now?"

Ryan could see himself throw the book down on the ground and dive into Brendon's bunk to kiss him some more. The thought scared him so much that he threw the book down in Brendon's bunk, hitting the boy's stomach, and harshly closed the curtain again before he rushed to open the door and disappear into the back lounge.

He was restless though, not even Patrick's presence could get him to relax. His shoulders were tense and his mind was back in his hotel room with Brendon's lips pressed tightly against his own. He should have never left the bar. Or he shouldn't have allowed Brendon to come with him instead. Maybe he shouldn't have said yes to the intern at all, or he should have stayed mean, the way that he treated everyone but his band members.  
Either way it had happened and Ryan had to live with the fact that he was indeed a little attracted to a guy and that maybe it wouldn't just go away if he said so.

He had helped Brendon to dress better, unconsciously digging his own grave. Brendon was attractive, he was funny and interesting enough that Ryan didn't get bored of him. He was also a guy, and Ryan wasn't gay. Even if he was, if someone would find out, Ryan's career would be over.

"What's up with you Ryan?" Patrick asked when he looked up from his notebook for the 20th time. "Nothing," Ryan said way too quickly.

He spent his time waiting for sound check doing some writing, glad when he could get up and out of the bus. A long queue of people was already at the front of the venue, screaming his name as they saw him walk past. He lifted his hand and smiled softly in a greeting, glad they couldn't get to him.

The venue was empty and Ryan loved playing while no one was there yet. The music would echo through the room as he sung, and no one would scream through it. He kept his eye on the sidelines, waiting for Brendon to show up with a notebook in his hands.

When the intern finally did show up, Ryan couldn't tear his eyes away. Brendon looked gorgeous, wearing the red jeans Ryan had bought him, but he also looked a little upset and Ryan shook his head. Brendon wasn't upset because of him, there was probably a problem backstage that made him frown the way he did. Some problem with the sound that made him bite his lower lip continuously. Not Ryan.

Either way he didn't care, he wasn't supposed to care. It had only been a kiss, not the end of the world.

Brendon talked to the roadies and then disappeared again and Ryan focused on playing their set instead of taking off his guitar and going after him.

Once they finished William was grinning from ear to ear, glad they were in Chicago where his friends Gabe and Travis lived. "Tonight will be so epic, I can't wait," The guitarist said, grinning brightly at Ryan, who sent a weak smile in return. Patrick joined William in his conversation and Alex was working on his gear, talking to a roadie.

Ryan took one look at the empty floor, trying to decide if he wanted to sit there and just look around or if he wanted to find Brendon. He had no clue what he would do once he found the boy though and so he sat down, looking up at the lights above him, seeing the empty chairs on the balcony where later tonight people would take place to watch the show. It all felt weirdly unnatural at that moment.

"Ryan, dude they have showers," Alex showed up, his hair wet and he looked a lot cleaner than he had done the past week. Most venues only had small showers, sometimes it was even smaller than the one in their tour bus and Ryan praised the lord for every venue that had normal showers. Even communal showers were fine with him.

"Better hurry, I'm on my way to tell Patrick," Alex went on and Ryan scrambled to his feet and hurried. Patrick was the one that spent an hour in the shower whenever he got the chance and Ryan wouldn't let this opportunity slip away. He got himself a towel and his toiletries before running around like a headless chicken to find the shower.

He got there before Patrick did and he did a small victory dance to celebrate this. He undressed quickly before stepping in the decent sized cubicle and turning on the tap. The spray that came from the showerhead was slow but at least it was warm and it actually worked. Ryan felt the leftover sweat drain from his body and he sighed happily, "fucking finally." He washed himself, taking extra time for his hair and then dried himself off. He didn't like to take an hour like Patrick, he could use his time way better.

He stared at himself in the small mirror above an even smaller sink and he smiled at his facial hair, "time to shave you off," he told his still pretty non-existent beard.

"Don't, I like it." Ryan looked up to see Brendon standing in the doorway and Ryan cocked an eyebrow, "excuse me, I'm in the fucking shower, Jackson. By the way you don't get to tell me what to do when it comes to personal choices. I could go bald if I want to." Brendon shrugged, "get over it Ross, and I know I can't, I meant it as a personal preference. I prefer you with facial hair. Your manager however doesn't care."

Ryan looked at Brendon for a while before he put down the razor, making the younger boy smile. "So, why did you need me?" He asked then, knowing that if Brendon was there he either had news or questions about the show. "I don't need you," Brendon said, that rebellious part of him made it sound harsh even though there was no anger behind his words. "Then what are you doing here?" He asked in return and Brendon bit his lower lip while grinning playfully, "just wanted to check you out." Ryan huffed in surprise, feeling as if their kiss had changed more than he had thought.

Was Brendon flirting with him? "Maybe I am," Brendon said and Ryan frowned. "Thinking out loud, Ry?" Brendon laughed and Ryan frowned, "don't call me that." "Whatever," Brendon said as he turned around. His smile had disappeared and he was about to push the door open when Ryan felt something snap inside of himself, "wait." "What?" Brendon said, back still turned to Ryan and he stepped closer to the intern, tugging on his wrist and twirling him around again.

Their chests collided, Brendon's covered and Ryan's naked, and they looked at each other. There it was again, that twist in his gut that made Ryan want. Want to touch, want to kiss, want to feel Brendon fall apart under his touch. "I have to- I just gotta," Brendon stumbled, but his eyes drooped a little, his lips parted and the rest of those words died in his throat as they both leaned in, mouths hungry as they crashed.

Ryan was holding up his towel with one hand, touching Brendon's face with the other and the younger boy's hands were on his waist, moving them to some place new every second, fingers trembling. He rubbed his palms flat over Ryan's chest, moving up, over Ryan's shoulders before his fingernails scratched down his back and slowly padded up again.  
It took a while for them to break apart and when they did both of them were panting. They smiled at each other and Brendon chuckled, "it's been a few hours since you apologised for kissing me, so.. when can I expect the next I'm-not-gay-and-I-didn't-love-that speech?" Ryan scrunched his nose at that, "well you'll get the I'm-not-a-fag-but -I-won't-deny-you-have-a-great-mouth-for-kissing speech."

He thought it over for a while, watched as Brendon pulled his shirt straight again. "Maybe we can make a deal," He said, watching Brendon grow just a little hesitant, "a deal?" Ryan hummed, "yeah, we can fuck around. You get to cross Ryan Ross of your list and I get to kiss you, sounds like a plan to me."

Brendon's eyes darkened and he snarled at the singer, "what? You think I'm just a toy that you can play with? And how arrogant are you that you assume I have you on my to-fuck list." Ryan grinned, loving Brendon's frustration and he pulled the boy closer again to kiss him once more. Even though Brendon didn't really kiss back, he still tried to make it convincing enough, "don't feel offended, it's a compliment babe. Just say yes."

Brendon's nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw. Ryan could see him swallow as he closed his eyes, "fine. Deal. Whatever the hell you want, Ryan. As long as I get to keep my job or I swear I'll kill you." He let Brendon go, and the boy was barely free before he turned and stomped out of the bathroom.

Ryan didn't mind, it was another win for him. He kept smiling as he got dressed, swiping a hand over his cheek and feeling the stubble there. He just didn't feel like shaving, that was it. He wasn't trying to impress Brendon in any way.

Once he got out of the shower, dressed for the show, Patrick stood there with his arms crossed, "about time Ross, you're not the only one who wants to shower." "At least it didn't take me an hour like it does with you Pat, don't be so grumpy," he said and he ruffled his best friend's hair. Patrick gaped at him a little, surprised at how Ryan didn't bitch back like he usually would. His surprise made it the drummer didn't slam the door, and Ryan laughed with his head tipped back. He was riding a high, feeling more relaxed in his skin than he had done during the past weeks of tour.

 

-

Ryan watched with hooded eyes as Brendon danced with a girl but kept his eyes on the guy on the other side. It had taken him a few minutes to realise the guy was staring back and they were playing some twisted flirtation game. When Brendon turned and pushed through the sea of bodies to find the bathroom, clearly waiting for the guy to follow him, Ryan downed his umpteenth drink and got up. He sped up his pace, wanting to make sure that he was there before that guy got there.

Brendon was leaning back against the sink, hip cocked to the side as he clearly expected someone else. His body froze when he saw Ryan and he immediately stood straight again, "Rya-" "No, I want to take you home, not him. Me," Ryan interrupted and he moved closer to Brendon, looking him down. His hands moved up to cup Brendon's jaw, giving him time to get away if he wanted to, but Brendon stayed. He gave in to what he wanted, kissing the intern right there in the dirty bathroom.

They were pressed close together when the door opened and Ryan knew it was the guy from the dance floor. He pulled away and turned to look back, "sorry, he's taken." The guy looked at Brendon for clarification and Ryan watched his face, torn between going back with Ryan and showing Ryan he wasn't his bitch by going home with the stranger. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he was here," Brendon said then and Ryan turned back to the guy who was already backing off, looking a little disappointed that he wouldn't get any that night.

Ryan started to kiss him again, leaning against him and Brendon caught on quickly, "fuck, Ryan you're drunk," he said as he pushed the singer away from him. "Come on Brenny, wanna kiss you," Ryan said, falling back against Brendon again. He was heavy, far from sober and hornier than ever but Brendon wasn't cooperating anymore now that he knew. "Come on we kiss all the time what's your problem?" Ryan asked, whining.

He straightened up a little when a new guy walked into the bathroom, giving them a weird look and Brendon laughed nervously, "he's so out of it." It worked though, the new guy laughed before turning to the urinals and Brendon sighed in relief, pulling on Ryan' sleeve, "come with me."

Ryan followed like a willing puppy, feeling victorious that he had gotten what he wanted. He was surprised when he found out the intern was leading him back to their group though and he frowned as Brendon let him go, "alright people, I'm taking Ryan back to the hotel because he's too drunk to function. I hope you can manage yourself for a while and otherwise Pete will be around here somewhere." Ryan started to protest, "but I don't want to sleep I want-," Brendon sighed, "I'm sure what you want we can fix at the hotel." Ryan wanted to protest again but then he realised what Brendon meant with that. The intern smiled brightly at the confused group of people that sat at the table and he whispered -still too loud for Ryan to hear-, "he thinks he'll get more alcohol but no way." Patrick laughed, possibly because it was such a Ryan thing to do and maybe Brendon knew just how to cover this all up. "A good night gentlemen," Brendon said then, dragging Ryan along again, out of a backdoor somewhere so they wouldn't be seen by the press.

Ryan whined, "I have to wait until we're at the hotel?" Brendon chuckled and Ryan could hear he was smiling, "yes." Ryan gave Brendon a push, one the boy didn't expect, and he tumbled against the stone wall. It was harsh, but Ryan pressed up against him and kissed him hard.

He had expected the younger boy to protest, to tell him to wait or even yell in anger for being so rough, but he didn't. He kissed Ryan back, licking his tongue over the seam between his lips as his hands reached for Ryan's face. He forced himself to push away then, Ryan could feel how he struggled to break the kiss and it made him smile.

"Weak Jackson, weak," He grinned before he started walking again, wobbling a bit without Brendon's support. The intern joined him quickly after, holding a hand on his hip as he threw one of Ryan's arms over his shoulder. "I'm actually not that drunk, it's just that because I'm so thin my body is easily affected, my brains aren't," Ryan explained and Brendon smiled, "keep telling yourself that, Ross."

"It's true, ask me any mathematic question," Ryan went on and Brendon took a second to look at him, "okay, emh what is 245 times 34." Ryan groaned, "that's not fair, that's so difficult. I meant more like 7 times 5," he said and Brendon just laughed.

The hotel was only a five minute walk, but to Ryan it felt forever as he tried to figure out the sum Brendon had given him.

Ten times two hundred and forty-five. Times three is seven thousand four hundred and fifty. Plus four times two hundred and forty-five.. "Eight thousand, four hundred and thirty," He said eventually, the hotel finally in sight. Brendon frowned, "what?" "Eight thousand, four hundred and thirty, that's the answer," Ryan repeated. "I have no clue," Brendon laughed, "but okay little Einstein."

They were alone in the elevator and Brendon didn't disappoint. A hand sneaked underneath Ryan's shirt, touching the small of his back as he kissed Ryan's neck. "What do you want Ryan?" He asked, voice low and seductive and Ryan swallowed, "what are you offering?" He asked and Brendon hummed against his neck, lips moving up to his ear, "do you want to fuck me?" Ryan froze, his thoughts coming in vivid pictures in his head. Pictures of them in bed. Pictures of him fucking a guy. Pictures of fucking Brendon.

He breathed in, breathed out, "okay."

The elevator said ping, the doors opened and Ryan felt like a completely different person.  
Brendon took his hand and led him to Ryan's room, taking the key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. When Ryan stepped into the room it felt as if he couldn't breathe, he was that tense. The door slammed shut behind them and Brendon's hands were on his shirt, trying to unbutton it. There was as much chemistry as there had been during their quick kiss in the alley and it fell over him like a warm blanket, dragging him along like a wild river and he stopped worrying and just kissed Brendon.

"I want you," Brendon admitted and Ryan felt lighter than he had done all night. "You can have me," he replied, making Brendon smirk, "good." Within seconds his shirt was unbuttoned. "You don't know how frustrating it is to see you on stage every night. Your sex appeal and your voice are so- god it makes me so angry," Brendon said, sounding frustrated as his hands roamed over Ryan's chest.

His shirt was pushed off of his shoulders.

Brendon bit down on his collarbone, kissing up his neck as his hands moved to unbutton his own shirt while Ryan loosened the boy's tie without looking at it. Brendon smiled into the kiss and Ryan earned himself a bite on his bottom lip. He flipped them over, Brendon now pressed up against the door, realising it was the loss of control he couldn't take.

"You know," Brendon started, "if you're so fucking sloppy I might as well ride you because how are you going to fuck me properly now you’re drunk?" Ryan felt offended, gaping at him, "I've sobered up, I can thrust in a straight line no matter how drunk I am, don't worry Brendon." "We'll see," Brendon settled, pushing his knee up between Ryan's legs and Ryan gasped in surprise. "I'm taking your gay virginity," The younger boy went on, keeping his lips close to Ryan's. Ryan sighed, "bed, please," he didn't want to think about how he was going to fuck a guy - and enjoy it probably. He just needed more skin to touch, more Brendon.

The boy obliged, walking them backwards to the bed, his tie still messy around his neck and he was beautiful. Brendon was made to look like this; lips swollen and red, his hair a mess and that cheeky smile that showed he knew exactly how good he looked. This was Brendon in all his glory, half naked and wanting more, being greedy enough to take it. The fact that he was about to get a taste of that made him so hard it hurt.

He pulled on the tie, getting it out of the way before diving in and sucking a bruise on the skin of Brendon's neck for everyone to see. Brendon's breathing got louder, his hands grabbing clothes as he tried to get them out of the way. He twirled around and ended up sitting on the bed, looking a little dazed for a second before he remembered what he wanted to do.

His fingers came up to Ryan's jeans, easily popping the button and working on the zipper. Brendon's fingers trailed over the waistband of his underwear before they slowly dipped down further, cupping his erection. He pulled Ryan closer to stand between his legs and he kissed Ryan's navel, swirling his tongue around it before he licked a trail down. It tickled on the inside and Ryan thought it almost felt like butterflies, but he knew that wasn't it.

Brendon pulled on his jeans, getting them down to his thighs on the first harsh pull and Ryan wriggled out of them as he swayed a bit from the left over alcohol in his body.

"Get naked and get on the bed," Brendon ordered and Ryan once again felt how he was not in control of this situation. "You get naked and get on the bed," He replied and Brendon just chuckled, "trust me, I will."

Ryan didn't think as he got out of his underwear and climbed on the bed and he didn't think as he turned on his back and started to stroke himself while he watched Brendon undress. It was the first time Ryan was in the presence of another naked man and to be honest, Brendon looked glorious. His whole body screamed arousal, the way his cock curved up to his stomach and the rapid way in which his chest heaved. He watched Ryan with dark eyes, slowly moving so he could crawl on the bed, leaning over him and replacing Ryan's hand with his own.

"You look good," Ryan said, his mouth moving on its own accord and Brendon smiled, "you too."

He could still back out, he could still say no and keep it a hand job or even a blowjob, he could- who was he kidding, he couldn't do that even if he wanted to. His body had betrayed him, and Ryan felt the sheer pain of it but didn't mind as much as he would have done two months ago.

Out of the pocket of his jeans Brendon got a small tube of lube, handing it to Ryan as he sat back on his heels, "do you know what to do?" Ryan cocked an eyebrow and swallowed, "I might be straight, but I do know how gay sex works."

Brendon huffed, probably at the part where Ryan claimed he was straight. Brendon pushed against Ryan's side, making him move over, "make room you ass unless you want to bottom." He rolled over, not even wanting to think about that option in fear he wouldn't actually mind too much.

He watched Brendon getting comfortable on his back, propping up on the pillows, "aren't you going to get on your hands and knees?" Brendon chuckled, "no. This position is the best," he cocked an eyebrow, "is that a problem?" Ryan swallowed, seeing new images in his head of Brendon's face as he pushes in, his eyes as Ryan makes him come. He looked away for a second to let it sink in and then said with a dark voice, "no, it's not."

Brendon took the lube from Ryan's hand when it took too long for him to get a move on. He squirted the cold liquid on Ryan's fingers while he begged, "please." He obeyed the younger boy's pleas, pushing his legs apart with his other hand and Brendon immediately put his feet flat on the bed, knees up in the air.

He took a minute to just stare at the body beneath him. Brendon was gorgeous; tens of birthmarks on his chest, a happy trail down his navel and strong thighs. The boy whined, squashing Ryan's body between his legs, "Ryan." Ryan shook out of it, reaching his hand between Brendon's legs, who opened them once again and Ryan could see the way he drew in a deep breath as his slicked up fingers pressed against his entrance.

Ryan spread the lube a little, drawing circles and Brendon held his breath, his ribs visible through his skin as he raised his hands up and curled them around the headboard. Ryan slowly pressed one finger inside, feeling Brendon's muscles tighten around the digit as he whined and he wanted to pull back in fear that he was hurting him. "Move it, goddamn it Ryan you said you knew how to do this," Brendon complained and Ryan woke up from his trance again, starting to push his finger in, out, in, out.

He added a second finger when Brendon started to sound whiny again, curling them inside of him until Brendon was writhing beneath him. He pulled his fingers out then, wiping them on the sheets before he leaned down to kiss Brendon, pushing his tongue past his lips. They bit at each other, fighting for control, but Ryan refused to give it up again. Brendon looked a little surprised when they broke apart, "Ryan grew a backbone, shit that's such a turn on." His ankles curled around Ryan's thighs, pulling their bodies closer together and Brendon breathed out a light headed, "Fuck me, Ross." Ryan didn't doubt himself again and he picked up the lube, covering himself quickly, something he definitely knew how to do, before he lowered himself over Brendon's body and kissed him once more, "fine, whatever you want."

His fingers dug into Brendon's skin as he held the boy's hips while he aligned himself with his body, hips thrusting forward once and he slipped into the heat of Brendon's body. He choked on the air he tried to suck into his lungs, nearly collapsing forward at the tightness, the way Brendon's muscles seemed to tighten on their own accord.

Brendon's hands came up to touch his shoulders, fingernails pressing into his skin as Ryan moved his hips in a circle. Brendon had his eyes closed and he licked his lips, "you're so big" he seemed to be surprised and Ryan felt a weird sense of pride at the compliment.

He pulled his hips back, almost completely slipping out before he thrust forward again, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as he found a steady pace. Their skin smacked together, filling the room with obscene sounds. Moans started to spill from both their lips, mixing together as their bodies pushed back against one another. Brendon's nails scratched down his back and Ryan shivered, his own hands skating down Brendon's thighs as he held them in a way that made the slide easier.

Brendon seemed to lose himself as Ryan sped up the snapping of his hips, and his moans were accompanied by laboured breathing. His dark brown eyes opened then and he stared up into Ryan's lighter ones and this was what Ryan had been scared of. There was no thinking of how the person beneath him was a girl, and Ryan searched his heart for the feeling of disgust and shame, which he knew he should be feeling right now because he was fucking another man. Instead he stared back down, almost swimming in the chocolate of Brendon's eyes and his hips faltered slightly.

Brendon lunged forward, pressing their lips together briefly as his hands cupped Ryan's ass, pulling him closer. He tilted his hips up and Ryan slid in even deeper, gasping loudly and Brendon smiled at this, "you hit my prostate on every damn thrust." Ryan chuckled, thankful for the slower pace even though he kept going as deep as he could, "it's called a skill. I've got experience." "With the ladies yeah," Brendon replied and he whined a soft, "faster," as an end to their brief conversation.

It felt weird but Ryan did as he was asked, thrusting as hard as he could without getting sloppy. He knew he was still drunk but the effect of the alcohol must have disappeared from his body because he didn't feel it anymore. All he felt was the way his muscles quivered, how Brendon's skin felt against his own and the pulling feeling in his stomach that told him he was close.

"Ryan, touch me," Brendon said then, his back arching and their chests touching, Brendon's cock brushing against his abdomen. Ryan leaned back on his heels so he would have more space before his hand curled around Brendon's cock, which felt heavier than his own and was leaking pre-come. He realised it was the first time he had touched Brendon's cock, they had gone straight from kissing to sex.

He stared at his own hand in surprise and he flicked his wrist as he pushed in deep, hitting Brendon's prostate dead on. The boy moaned louder than he had done all night, his thighs shaking as he tried to both buck up into Ryan's fist and push back down on his cock.

He could feel the exact moment Brendon came, decorating his chest with streaks of white as his muscles squeezed around Ryan. His hand moved sloppily, helping Brendon through the aftershocks as he tried not to come that instant. Once Brendon had stopped coming Ryan moved his hand back to Brendon's hip, thrusting in such a frenzy that his heart hurt from his heavy, irregular breathing. It felt as if he was running a marathon, nearing the finish and he  
doubled over when he came, no sounds leaving his mouth as his whole body froze. Brendon's fingers curled in his hair, pulling slightly as he just kept coming,  
filling him up until Ryan's body ached, feeling spent.

He pulled out instantly, falling down next to Brendon as he tried to catch his breath. "And?" Brendon asked after a few minutes of silence, sounding a little scared and Ryan laughed, "fuck, no- yeah you're good." Brendon rolled over, pressing up against Ryan's side and he didn't have the heart to push him away. For once Ryan felt okay with post-orgasm cuddling and he curled an arm around Brendon's shoulders and tipped his chin up for a long kiss.  
Brendon's come felt sticky and cold against Ryan's skin but he was too lazy to wipe them clean. He was too lazy to do anything but lie there, and it wasn't very classy but he knew he was going to fall asleep.

"Don't think I don't have stamina or whatever just because I'll fall asleep within minutes, I just haven't had sex this great in a while," Ryan said with his eyes closed and he could almost hear the smug smile as Brendon replied, "sure Ross, we'll see about your stamina later."

Ryan didn't know what to say to that, tried not to think of this happening more often so he just hummed and breathed Brendon in. He fell asleep thinking how nice the boy smelled mixed with Ryan.


	3. Step 2: The trust of the innocent is the liar’s tool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan swallowed hard. "Bren I- my career, I'm not-," He stuttered and the younger boy interrupted, "yeah, yeah I know. You're not gay. I'm not saying you are gay, maybe you're just Brendoncurious," he laughed at his own joke, "but I know we have something, and can't we just take the risk? Even if we don't work out, at least we'll have the memories. You can trust me, I won't tell anyone. It's not just your career it's mine as well."

 

**July 1974**

"Ryan Ross, I've been looking for you," Ryan heard once he finally got his drink at the overcrowded bar, a familiar body pressed up against his back and Ryan smiled, knowing right away who the voice belonged to, "Jac." He turned with her chest still pressed against him and she smiled up, being smaller than Ryan, "hi honey, how have you been?" Ryan smiled and pulled her up, pressing a kiss to her lips, "good, great actually and you?" She shrugged, "could have been better. I’m still trying to find a job because I need money."

Jac had been one of the most popular groupies in the business until one day she simply disappeared from the scene. Vanished. People say she was arrested, but Jac was too pretty and too smart to go to jail. Others said she grew tired of being the whore of the music business. Ryan didn't blame her for that. They were great friends and Ryan couldn't remember how often they had hooked up simply because he lost track of how often.

"God Jac, you just disappeared, I heard all these stories," Ryan said as he drank half of his glass before offering her the rest. "They're probably all lies. Look, I have to talk to you about something very important. Are you in a hotel for the night or do you guys sleep on the bus?" Ryan frowned, "hotel, but why? Is something wrong?" She smiled, "there's always something wrong with me, Ry." He smiled back at her, "that's true."

Jac put down the empty glass and took Ryan's hand, "okay well, let's go then." He knew Brendon was somewhere in the crowd, knew that if he wouldn't leave now he would go home with him, but somehow he just wanted to go back with Jac. He had missed her company.

They kissed as soon as they were in the elevator of the hotel, one young woman staring at them in disgust until she reached her floor and Ryan remember why he had liked Jac so much. She was carefree, didn't have a thing in the world to worry about. She wouldn't lose her fame, she didn't have any friends or family that would leave her either. She could do whatever she wanted.

Her hair was a bright pink and she had a new tattoo behind her ear that Ryan hadn't seen before. She was gorgeous, and there had been a time where Ryan had thought that she was the one he would fall in love with, but it hadn't happened.

When they got to Ryan's room they had both forgotten that she was there to talk to him about something, and they fumbled with their clothes. Jac was wearing a dress, which was a little easier to take off, but with her experience she had his shirt open within seconds. Jac had stretch marks Ryan had never seen before, and a navel piercing she said she changed every month because she'd get bored of it. For Ryan her body was the closest to coming home as he ever could, and the thought that she resembled his home made him sad. He didn't even see her anymore, it had been more than a year since the last time they had met, and still she felt familiar and warm in a way that no other girl had managed to copy.

She kissed him just the way he had wanted for weeks now, and her small hands travelled down his chest, "okay we can wait with the talking until after," she laughed, her smile bright and happy.

It wasn't difficult to see why guys fell in love with her all the time, she was almost like an angel, and with the help of some alcohol she looked perfect in the dim light. She led him to the bed and even with the year and a half apart it hadn't changed the spark that was there. Ryan completely forgot about Brendon for a while.

Her moans were deliciously high, her breasts firm under Ryan's hands and there was no doubt she was a girl.

Jac got off the bed as soon as they were done, walking to the bathroom as she combed her fingers through her hair. Ryan could hear the water as he fumbled for a cigarette, hands shaking a little. He lit it and watched Jac walk back in just as someone knocked on the door.  
Maybe it was an angry neighbour that wanted to complain about how loud they had been. He got up, wrapping the sheets around his hips as he shuffled to the door. He opened it as Jac got dressed behind him.

It wasn't an angry neighbour.

It was Brendon.

Ryan's cigarette sat snug between his lips as he held the covers up around his waist with his free hand and Brendon's face went from smiling to frowning as he looked past Ryan to see Jac slip on her dress again. Brendon pushed past him, pointing at her, "you. Out, now." Jac turned to the intern "excuse me?" "I said get out, now," Brendon sounded angry, but she didn't give in, "what are you, his boyfriend?"

Ryan stepped in then even though he knew she was being sarcastic, "I'm not gay," and Brendon sighed, "he's not gay no, I'm here in name of his manager because Ryan here had an appointment half an hour ago so get out or I'll get someone to throw you out." Jac huffed but gave in then, putting on her heels and kissing Ryan goodbye before she walked up to the door, "we still need to talk. Same bar, tomorrow morning, 11am," she threw over her shoulder before she walked out like Brendon hadn't just threatened her.

The boy in question watched her leave with anger in his eyes and his jaw tense, "who the hell was that?" He demanded as soon as she was out of sight and the door was closed again. "My ex, but never mind that, what appointment did I miss?" Ryan threw in. "There is no appointment," Brendon yelled before he crossed his arms in front of his body. Ryan stared at him, "then why did you throw her out like that? There was no need to, Brendon."

Brendon shook his head though, not answering his question and Ryan huffed, "are you jealous?" He asked with a grin and Brendon looked angry again. "Hell no, you could fuck a thousand girls and I still couldn't care less." Ryan had hoped for a different answer, "no, you're jealous, admit it." Brendon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm really not, trust me, but it's just that I thought-" "Thought what? That now we had sex we're dating?" Ryan laughed. "No," Brendon was quick to say, "I just thought that maybe now you have me, you won't have sex with whoever is willing anymore."

"So you do think we're exclusive now," Ryan stated, thinking Brendon was making a joke. "Not thinking," Brendon said, "more like- hoping." The younger boy was being serious and Ryan thought it over as he stared at Brendon's face, taking in the colour of his eyes and the shape of his lips. "Just us?" He asked then. Brendon nodded, "I won't have sex with others if you don't either." "And- no strings attached?" He asked to make sure. "No strings attached," Brendon replied and Ryan looked down his body, the muscles he knew Brendon was hiding, the shape of his ass. Then he shrugged, "okay." Brendon looked surprised at this, "okay?" "That's what I said right?"

Brendon shrugged off his coat as Ryan spoke. "Guess what," Brendon grinned and Ryan replied with the expected, "what?" as he eyed him. The boy smiled, "you do have an appointment, drop the sheets." Ryan dropped them easily, and with a simple movement Brendon's shirt had disappeared and Ryan was touching strong shoulders and the inked skin of his forearm.

"You're a moron," Ryan said as Brendon kissed his neck, "back at you," he breathed out against his collar bone. He laughed and Ryan got pushed back a little, stumbling back on the bed. "Do you have enough energy to go again or should I worry about you not getting it up?" Brendon joked as he stroked the inside of Ryan's thighs. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked, shaking his head, "try me Brendon, try me." Brendon got a devious grin on his face then and Ryan knew Brendon was going to do just that.

 

"So Jac, you know that I hate going to places that sell alcohol this early in the morning," Ryan said when he joined the pink haired girl at the bar and ordered himself a beer.  
"Oh shut up Ross, you love it, you just need to find an excuse to drink this early," She replied with a smile and she leaned in to kiss him. Ryan wondered if he was breaking the rule he had made with Brendon only eight hours before. He shrugged at the thought though, it was only a kiss.

"You look tired, did you even sleep?" Jac asked, sipping from something tropical. The colour of her drink matched her hair. Ryan smiled "sure," -for two hours, after having sex until sunset-, "Brendon was out of my hair soon enough," -except for he wasn't-.

Jac hummed, "he's a bit weird, isn't he? He barged in like he was some overprotective girlfriend. Better watch out Ryan, I think he might be a fag." Ryan didn't comment, he just drank his beer and turned to face her, "okay, so what is it that we have to talk about? Don't tell me you have some STD because that would have been some important information for me to know before we had sex again." She rolled her eyes, "no Ryan, god. I just have to tell you my story." Ryan cocked an eyebrow at this, wondering why it was of any importance to him.

"So, you know I disappeared right? I left the scene nearly two years ago, but we last met about 20 months ago. I was too scared to tell you what was going on then, but I'm ready to talk now." It still didn't make sense in Ryan's head, but he nodded for her to go on. "I moved to Salt Lake City, settled down in town with a nice guy named Frank. I dyed my hair brown, changed into a proper girlfriend. I even got myself a job at a local restaurant, it sucks being a waitress but at least with my looks I still get a lot of tips," She explained and Ryan interrupted her because the picture in his head didn't fit with Jac. She would never dye her hair a dull brown and she had sworn that she would never settle down, "Jac, who the hell is this guy that he got you to settle down. That's not you, you belong on the road." She smiled at that, "I did belong on the road, but not anymore. You see, I left the scene because- because I was pregnant. I needed money for a doctor and I knew no one wanted a pregnant groupie on tour with them. Then I met Frank, he's a doctor and he helped me out. He's a nice guy so I stayed with him. It’s nothing special, but he loves me. Nine months later Heather was born."

Ryan stared at her, "you have a kid? Jac, shit, why didn't you come to us for help? You could have gone to the father and demanded help. Unless you don't know who the father is?" He asked, a little unsure because he didn't know how many guys she used to see back then.

She stared at him for such a long time that Ryan started to feel uncomfortable, even looking back to see if she was staring at someone behind him. She heaved a sigh and got out a small picture from her purse that lay on the bar, "this is her. This is Heather." Ryan took the picture, looking at the young girl who looked much like her mother. She had the same eyes, the same smile and Ryan smiled at how cute the girl looked. Just like her mom except for the nose, her nose looked like- Ryan felt the blood drain from his face - like his. Then he saw the dimple in her chin that Ryan used to have when he was younger and he sucked in a deep breath.

"Jac," He said, dropping the picture on the bar as he started to feel sick, "please tell me that she's not- that I'm not- please." His fingers curled around the edge of the bar, the wooden splinters pushing in his skin and it would hurt his fingers during the show that night but he didn't care, his world was spinning and Jac didn't answer him.

"Jac," He said, louder now and she backed away a little but hurriedly answered him, "I'm sorry, but you are. She's your daughter Ryan." Ryan laughed, shaking his head, "I want a DNA test or I won't pay a thing." Jac got angry then, "Fuck you Ryan, I'm not here for money. I haven't asked for your help the past 13 months and I'm not here to ask for help now." "Then why are you telling me this?! Why do you have to ruin my life?! I told myself I'd never have any kids because this family line of mistakes should stop after me but no, there's offspring now. I have a fucking kid and it will go on and go on and it's my fault Jac, my fault!" Ryan felt so much frustration and he felt like he had failed himself and his father. Especially his father. 'Don't ever get me grandchildren Ryan, I won't let them in. You were enough of a mistake, make sure you don't pass it on' The man had said even though he had died two years later. It mattered because Ryan had always felt like he had been a mistake, and here it was, the proof that he really had no clue just how much of a fuck up he really was.

Jac got up from her stool, turning Ryan around so he would face her, "listen to me you fucking asshole. You have a gorgeous little daughter and you're free to see her, but if you're going to act this way then I will never let you into her life, do you hear me? And you'll regret it, trust me you'll regret it. Here's my address, do with it whatever you want, but know that I won't be back. If you lose it, you'll never find us again." And with those words Jac strode past him and out the door, out of his life again as it should be.

Ryan looked up to see the few people in the bar staring at him and he turned back without saying a thing. "One whiskey, no ice please," He said to the waiter, who got him his drink without questioning what had happened.

Jac had left the picture of Heather on the bar, and Ryan picked it up again, seeing more and more of himself in her. The colour of her eyes was the same as his, and she had the same dimples in her cheeks when she laughed. Ryan hated that, it was the reason he tried not to smile.

It was hard to accept the fact that he wasn't the last Ross in line, but that there was now a little girl that was just a year old, that maybe one day would follow in his footsteps. Maybe she'd be a rock chick, or maybe she'd be the next president. She could be anything she wanted to be as long as Ryan wouldn't be part of her life, because he was a screw up just as much as his own parents. His father was an alcoholic and Ryan was on his way to becoming one as well; he'd only be a bad influence on her.

He stared at the picture as he drank his whiskey, trying to get himself together. It wasn't as if he cared about the kid in the picture, they were blood related but that was all. He didn't think of himself as the father because he wasn't. That Frank guy was her father now, and Jac had said she wasn't there for money. Ryan wished she had just kept it to herself. He wished he could live on without knowing he had a daughter somewhere. He wished it was easy to just throw the address away. Instead he tucked the picture and the piece of paper with her address on it in his coat and paid for his drinks, "thanks," he told the bartender who gave a quick nod in reply.

Needless to say their show that night sucked, and he got some dirty looks once they were backstage, still having to do the encore. Ryan locked eyes with Brendon, who looked at him worriedly, something Ryan didn't like because it showed he cared. He was however also part-time manager of the band nowadays and maybe it was just that side of him that was worried. Maybe Brendon just worried about the band.

Ryan shook the thought off as he walked back on stage, "Alright, thank you guys for making me deaf tonight. We've got two more songs to play, but before we do I'd like to say for all of you lovers out there, I bet you're going to get laid tonight, but be safe. Most of us are probably post World War II baby boom kids, but that doesn't mean we should do the same as our parents and have a post Nicotine Dreams baby boom, alright?" He was drunk, too drunk to even comprehend his own words, but the crowd screamed anyway, eating right out of the palm of his hand.

His band mates looked at each other and Ryan groaned into the microphone, "1, 2 - 1, 2, 3, 4," and they started playing again. It was all a blur, even the screaming afterwards. Patrick yelled at him, "what's gotten into you Ryan? Getting drunk before a show? You have never sunk so low," and William, "I played better than you and as proud as that makes me it's not supposed to be like that." Even Alex was disappointed, but his voice was soft instead of harsh, "I know I screw up a lot, I show up late because of my addiction to sex, but I have never, and I mean never, gotten to a show too drunk to play."

Ryan just pushed past them, their words digging like knives as they reminded him too much of his father. Too much family history in one day and Ryan needed cocaine, or weed, possibly both. He needed more, and thank god for hotel nights and- ,"Ryan, wait up."

Ryan turned, eyes big like a deer in headlights as Brendon came closer, "no, not you too. I know okay, I know I was wrong but it's all shit. It all went to shit Brendon, just let me go." Brendon didn't though. He didn't look mad, but Brendon had such a small wick that any spark could make him explode. "Are you okay?" Brendon asked, and the question was so unexpected that Ryan didn't know what to answer. The younger boy took advantage of the fact that Ryan was surprised and pulled him into a tight hug, "it's okay Ry, let it out."

Ryan slumped against Brendon's body, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "I can't, but I fucked up. I fucked up so much and I will keep fucking up, yet they don't see it. They think telling me how shitty I was will make me better, but it will make everything worse." He gasped for air, scared he would start crying. He had never liked depression, but he knew how to deal with it. Well, usually. Whenever he had a shitty day such as then, everything would weigh him down.

His doctor had told him that right now Ryan was stable enough to live a normal life, having a disorder called dysthymia, otherwise known as persistent depressive disorder. It meant Ryan could do whatever he wanted but would always feel down and unhappy. He had a very low self-esteem, but he always tried to cover up for this, rather having people think he was arrogant than insecure. He had suicidal thoughts every once in a while even though they were less often now than in the past, but there was a chance that one day he would slip so far into it that he wouldn't be able to function normally anymore.

He never told anyone how he felt, even though his band mates knew about his diagnosis, because he was scared to fall back again. He hated therapists, but he knew he needed one. Yet he refused every time Pete suggested it.

Ryan was stubborn and though he knew this he didn't bother changing himself because no one cared. Somehow Ryan got a feeling that Brendon did. Brendon had told him he wouldn't stop digging because he knew Ryan cared even when he said he didn't and for Ryan this was the scariest thing.

Brendon, the intern that was only 7 months younger than him, had found out more within two months than Pete had done in a whole year.

Ryan pulled back from the embrace then, "but whatever, don't bother trying to change them because they won't. I don't care either way." He shrugged, his heart hurting, and he left Brendon standing there with a confused look on his face that told Ryan he hadn't managed to make it sound as casual as he had hoped.

He still left, only taking his jacket with him, the picture and address still tucked into the inside pocket, and walked to the hotel by himself. He stopped on his way to get himself a bottle of good old Johnnie Walker, a pack of cigarettes and a small bag of coke that he tucked in with the picture of his daughter, "another reason I'd be no good," he whispered to himself as he walked down the street again.

"Hi, I'm Ryan Ross and I'm no good. I'll ruin your life like the alcohol in your veins and the powder in your nostrils. I'm Ryan Ross and I'm a mess, but isn't that just the best excuse for my behaviour?" He hummed, thinking it would make a great song if only he would be able to be that honest with the world, but as it was, he wasn't even able to be that honest with himself.

-

 

Somewhere just past Utah their bus made a stop on Brendon's request. Most of the guys stayed in the back lounge or in their bunks, exhausted after that night's show, but Brendon was Ryan's... whatever now and so he wanted to know what was up.

He put on his shoes and got out of the bus wearing nothing but pajamas. It was cool outside and he wrapped his arms around himself to try and stay warm even if he could just go back inside and grab something warmer. The sight of Brendon stopped him from going back in though.

The boy was leaning against the bus, staring up at the sky. "What are you doing?" Ryan asked as he walked up closer. "Counting stars," Brendon replied without looking down. He didn't seem surprised that Ryan was there, as if he had expected him. "I'm not in the mood tonight, Ryan," he added before Ryan could say anything and it annoyed him. "I didn't even come for that," he hissed. "No? Then why?" Brendon asked, genuinely interested and Ryan huffed at how low Brendon thought of him, "I just wanted to know why we stopped." "Oh. Do I need a reason?" Brendon asked, one eyebrow raised.

Ryan tried not to get angry, he tried to be civil and nice to Brendon now they were fucking but Brendon made it so difficult sometimes. "Fine, if you're going to be like that then have fun counting stars." He turned, ready to leave, but Brendon's voice stopped him. "I'm- I'm trying to find the courage to walk," The younger boy said, and Ryan turned back to him and frowned, "to walk? Brendon, are you playing with me? Walk where?"

There was another long silence where Ryan thought he wouldn't get an answer to his question, but then the other boy swallowed. "There," Brendon said as he pointed down the road and Ryan looked, but it still didn't make sense. "The road?" He asked in confusion and Brendon looked at him. It was then that Ryan saw the trail of tears on Brendon's cheeks glistening in the pale moonlight. "Yeah, the road," Brendon said, sniffling quietly.

Ryan took a step forward, "Brendon you- you're crying," and the boy nodded. "What's wrong? Come on you can tell me," He said as he touched the intern's elbow lightly and Brendon heaved a sob. "That-that's where he- he- he died," He stuttered as more tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving fresh trails on his skin.

Brendon lifted his arm up, pressing his elbow against his mouth to stop his sobbing. Ryan dropped his arms next to his body, "what? Who died?" he asked even though the answer was crystal clear in his head. Brendon bent over, his body looking small and shaking with sobs and Ryan was unsure of what to do. He chose to just put a hand on the boy's back and let him cry until he would be able to talk. "Shane, his name was Shane," Brendon said as he wiped his eyes, "you know what happened."

Ryan bit his lower lip, "I'm- do you want me to walk with you?" Brendon turned to him then, looking at him with tear filled eyes, "Yeah? You would?" "Sure. I mean, you're crying, but you want to go there, don't you? You stopped the bus for it," Ryan said as he rubbed Brendon's back awkwardly until he felt like the situation was getting uncomfortable. "Wait here," Ryan said before he walked back to the bus, quickly looking for something that could keep them warm and he settled on the blanket that hung over the arm of the couch.

Brendon watched him come back and he smiled softly, having calmed down again. "Thanks," He said as Ryan joined him and they walked up the road, slow steps as they watched each other. Ryan tried to give Brendon space while Brendon waited for Ryan to take the lead.

Ryan kept walking once Brendon stopped and he turned, seeing Brendon staring at a point across the road. Ryan walked back, "okay let's stop here," he said as he unfolded the blanket and put it over Brendon's shoulders. Brendon looked to Ryan, a little unsure but then he opened the blankets and put one end over Ryan's shoulders instead. They were tucked close together, but at least it was warmer. Well, that was what Ryan told himself was the reason he didn't pull away. Brendon was warm against him and he rested his head against Ryan's shoulder.

"That night-," Brendon stopped for a few seconds, "he was wearing a simple white shirt but it looked so good on him. He had given me red roses and I remember him smiling at me. 'You're the best thing that has happened to me' he had told me, and then we crashed. Right over there. And his shirt was so red; covered in blood, and the roses were ruined and he wasn't breathing and I had broken so many bones," Brendon rambled in one go and his description sketched a scene in Ryan's head that made him feel sick. "I saw him take his last breath, you have no idea what that does to someone," Brendon's voice was trembling and Ryan wrapped his arm around Brendon's waist, "hey, Brendon calm down," he said and the younger boy turned himself against Ryan's body, hugging him tightly as he cried again.

Ryan couldn't speak, feeling so much sadness radiating from Brendon's body that he got emotional himself. "Damn you Brendon, Ryan Ross doesn't cry," He said as he wiped a tear away. Brendon laughed through his tears and he kissed Ryan's shoulder.

"Tell me more about him?" Ryan asked quietly and Brendon hummed softly, fingers pressing into Ryan's sides. "He was always very neat, a habit I now have as well. Always made fun of how I left my books everywhere and then couldn't find them back. We were the quiet, romantic couple that rather stayed home on Saturday night just to sit together. Sometimes it was boring, but we stayed the same. He took me out a lot, and his parents accepted the fact that we were together. It was a pleasant change from the usual. He was perfect, but I know we wouldn't have stayed together forever."

"Why not?" Ryan asked in surprise, they sure sounded like the perfect happily ever after couple. "I need excitement. Shane wasn't the type to spontaneously grab his stuff and take me on a road trip. He was scared of heights and spiders, and I was lacking adventure in my life. I was a kid who used to climb trees and create my own treasure maps. We fit like identical puzzle pieces but the image wasn't right."

Ryan thought this over for a while, realizing he had never even fit with anyone either way. "Thank you for coming out here with me," Brendon said then, voice so sincere it made him want to hold the boy forever, which was a strange thought to have when he had been sure he was straight.

Brendon kept sniffing and Ryan didn't know what to say. He knew he was risking his band mates finding out but he twisted their bodies and turned his head so he could kiss Brendon. It wasn't what they did, but Ryan could feel Brendon needed it. The boy kissed him back with as much force as he could muster, his hand curling in Ryan's shirt again like he had done when they first kissed. It was painful and short, but Brendon stared at him like he had indeed needed that.

"I think I'm okay now. I- yeah we can go back now," Brendon said, taking another look at the place where they had crashed. "Are you sure?" Ryan asked, but Brendon was already pulling him along, "yes, come on. Can I- can I stay with you for a while?" Brendon looked absolutely terrified that Ryan would turn him down, and Ryan wanted to. There was no way they could sneak into Ryan's bunk and have no one notice them, and Ryan felt so torn he didn't know what to answer.

"I see, okay well thank you for coming with me," Brendon said, voice a little harsh. Ryan held Brendon's wrist, knowing the boy wanted to run whenever he felt vulnerable, "Brendon listen to me. We're on the bus, the guys will walk by and they will notice. I'm not gay, we're not dating, it's too dangerous but I'm sorry, if things were different then I would."

The younger boy pulled himself free "If things were different? You mean if I had a pussy and long hair instead? Fuck off, listen to yourself. You're in denial Ryan, you're not gay? Sure you still like girls, but you fuck me on a regular basis and you still dare to say you're not into guys. You're such a hypocrite it makes me sick." And this rebellion, this anger that was hidden in Brendon, it was the reason Ryan wanted him so much. His gut twisted at the words and he wanted to scream back that the intern had crossed a line, but Ryan had wanted him to.  
His anger was the reason he found himself pressed up against Brendon, their bodies banging against the bus as Ryan kissed him harshly, biting Brendon's lip and holding his wrist even tighter, "shut up, just shut up," he said between kisses, Brendon's free hand in his hair. Ryan dared to sneak a hand underneath Brendon's shirt, touching the slight abs that were there and he longed to undress him and just trail his fingers over Brendon's skin. Brendon's face was damp, Ryan could almost taste the tears as he kissed Brendon's cheeks and he stepped away feeling a little breathless.

They had barely even parted when the bus door opened and Patrick's face appeared, "are you guys okay? We should leave again soon." Ryan looked at Brendon questioningly and the boy nodded, "I'm done here, we can leave." Ryan dropped his part of the blanket, walking up to the bus and his best friend, "yes, he cried, don't mention it though. I'll tell you in the morning if you want to know," he whispered before he passed by Patrick who seemingly understood now.

Ryan kicked off his shoes and climbed up into his bunk. When he had properly crawled underneath the covers Brendon stood at his side. He smiled slightly, "goodnight Ryan," there were no good night kisses because they weren't like that and Ryan smiled back before Brendon closed the curtain for him. He heard the boy crawl into his own bunk below Ryan's, closing the curtain and moving around until he felt comfortable. Ryan held his breath so he could hear if the boy was still crying.

Ten minutes later, when the bus started moving again, he still hadn't heard a sound.

-

When he knocked on Brendon's hotel room door the night after the intern's breakdown he felt nervous and scared. He had decided that maybe, because Brendon had opened up to him, he could trust the boy with some of his own problems.

Brendon opened the door, blinking up at Ryan, "oh hi," he slurred and Ryan frowned, "Brendon are you- are you drunk?" Brendon giggled as if he was a little girl that had done something bad, "sorry." He stepped away, hiccupping slightly as he walked into his room and Ryan followed, closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck, you said you don't drink, like multiple times," Ryan said as he watched all the empty glasses on the table, frowning as Brendon lifted another one in the air and took a sip. "Screw you Ross, today is the one day I get to drink, just because I survived. Maybe- maybe one year I'll drink myself to death and we're even again," Brendon stumbled and Ryan reached forward, taking the glass from him, "woah stop there little rebel, you've had enough." He led Brendon to the bed, feeling way too sober for his liking.

Brendon stared at him, "oh yeah good idea," he started to unbutton his shirt but Ryan slapped his hands away, "stop it, Brendon. Fuck do you have any idea how unprofessional this is?" Brendon shrugged, "who cares about jobs and money I could have been dead! Now come on Ryan, kiss me."

Ryan looked at Brendon and saw a very broken boy. He had always seen that side of him that was angry and too grown up for a twenty-one year old, but here it was; that side of him that showed just how young he was. "Brendon you're- you're only twenty-one, when did the accident happen?" Ryan asked and Brendon cringed a little, "three years ago."

"You were going to settle with this guy at the age of eighteen?" He asked and Brendon's shoulders slumped as he fell down on the bed, "I know, is that too soon? That's too soon right?" Ryan blinked and sat down as well, feeling extremely awkward searching for the romantic part of himself. He wasn't good at giving advice and especially not relationship advice, "well you were young yes, but if you loved him. I- it doesn't matter anymore now Brendon, he's gone and you're still here and you don't have to feel guilty or drink to make up for it. Just stop okay?"

Ryan was surprised at how honest he sounded and Brendon cocked his head to the side, looking less out of it as he thought this over, "Ryan Ross," he said, sounding a little breathless, "I like you way too much and you're ruining my life. You know so much about me, stupid me," he hit his own head and started laughing uncontrollably, "you need to tell me about you- Ryan- you need to tell me your secrets and I have to make sure I don't fall for you because it will be messy and- I want to know you. I need to know you."

Ryan stared at Brendon, knowing it was just the alcohol talking. Knowing it was probably making him too honest. "Fall for me?" He asked quietly, none of the usual bitterness to be traced in his voice. "Yeah, no Ryan, yes, you're such an asshole but it brings out the best in me. We fight and I want to rip your heart out but at the same time I want to kiss you senseless. But- yeah no- what was I saying?"

Ryan got up but before he could do anything at all Brendon had grabbed his hip and turned him. His fingers pushed up Ryan's shirt and he didn't move, he couldn't move with Brendon so close and looking so vulnerable. With Brendon looking so sexy. He was pulled closer with the same hand that never left his hip, and Brendon pushed his shirt up again slightly, leaning forward so he could press his lips against the exposed skin.

"You're cute," Brendon murmured against Ryan's abdomen, lips tracing the V of his hips as his hands reached for the button of his jeans. Ryan knew he should be stopping him now, he should. The problem was that he didn't want to.

He kept taking shaky breaths as Brendon kissed his skin, trying to shake the feeling and snap out of it, but Brendon knew exactly what to do to push his buttons; as if he had read Ryan's manual before they had even met.

The button popped and Ryan could still tell him to stop. The zipper followed and Ryan sighed as the younger boy chuckled, "Ryan Ross, you're either out of underwear or knew this was coming." He watched Brendon's lips, red from biting as he tried to wrestle him out of the jeans, not stopping until they were down his thighs. Calloused fingertips skittered across his hip, Brendon's tongue darted out and Ryan could feel the heat, didn't want to say no and so he closed his eyes and let Brendon do what he wanted.

Drunk Brendon was sloppy and over enthusiastic and Ryan wanted to laugh on multiple occasions, but as he stood there smiling with his hand curled into Brendon's hair he thought of what it would be like to wake up to this. To a bed-head Brendon with sleepy eyes and warm touches, and the thought of it didn't freak him out.

A cold hand slipped to his back, pressing against the dimples there as Brendon's tongue flicked over his skin. Ryan gasped, pulling on the boy's hair a little harder as a warning that Brendon completely ignored. Brendon swallowed and when he finally pulled off his mouth made an obscene popping noise that burst Ryan's bubble and he blinked down, unsteady on his feet.

"Move back," Ryan said and Brendon rolled over on the bed for him. Ryan flushed bright pink as he pulled his jeans back up again, zipping it before climbing on the bed with Brendon.  
"Aren't you leaving now like you always do?" Brendon asked in confusion as Ryan lay down next to him. "No, I'm going to stay here and make sure you don't drink yourself to death," Ryan said, propping himself up on the pillows and telling himself he was only staying for that reason.

It took a few seconds, and Ryan could hear Brendon's heavy breathing fill the room, but then the younger boy rolled over again and pressed himself against Ryan's side. Ryan allowed it, lifting one arm to make room for him and Brendon kissed his shoulder as he crawled even closer, "I'm sorry if I freaked you out." "It's okay Brendon, just go sleep now. You'll have one hell of a hangover in the morning and we'll need to patch you up so Pete won't fire you. I'll take the blame if I have to," Ryan said, knowing that if he took the blame Pete wouldn't even bat an eye. He knew as well that his band mates were starting to wonder why he never hung out with them anymore, and why he and Brendon were gone all the time.

When he looked down though, seeing the messy brown mop of hair and long eyelashes against rosy cheekbones he couldn't care less. Maybe Brendon could actually make him happy and keep the arrogance away. He was doing a great job at making things easier now he got laid regularly. Not like he wouldn't be able to find other girls, but they really weren't as good as Brendon.

"Oh fuck," he whispered, but Brendon was knocked out already, snoring softly. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, "fuck.'' It wasn't just Brendon liking him too much, it was him liking Brendon too much.

Ryan hated being dependent of someone. He hated knowing he needed someone around because they would leave, and so would Brendon. It hit him like a brick and somehow it hurt even though he wasn't even as close to Brendon yet. It hurt because Ryan kept trusting people even when he told himself he wouldn't. Brendon genuinely seemed like a good guy and if the good guys leave then there is no hope left for him.

Maybe it was just in his head, and maybe it wasn't. Ryan had always been delusional with his depression standing in his way, but one thing he knew for sure; Brendon couldn't know about it.

-

Ryan woke up when he felt something push him to the side. He frowned and scrunched his nose, not wanting to wake up. It couldn't have been morning yet, he felt like he had barely slept at all.

He blinked a few times, trying to get used to the darkness. His curtain closed again and a slightly smaller body curled around him, "Ry are you awake?" Ryan wanted to get angry, yell at Brendon for waking him and thinking it was okay to just crawl into his bunk, but the truth was that it was okay.

He felt drowsy and tired but he hummed quietly to let Brendon know he was awake. He wrapped his arms closer against Brendon as they hugged, "I couldn't stop thinking." "About what?" Ryan asked as he slowly started to realize that his band mates could find out and there would be problems for the both of them. "You," Brendon whispered against the shell of his ear and the word blew all his thoughts away. "Me?" He asked with a small smile, feeling Brendon's hand curl into his shirt. It was such a normal thing for him to do, it felt so normal to be here with the boy that he didn't know what to think. "Yeah. I- there's something I want and I know I can't have it, but I keep wanting it anyway," Brendon explained.

Ryan sleepily combed through Brendon's hair with his hand, "tell me?" Brendon was silent for such a long time Ryan nearly fell asleep again. "I know you're scared and I know the reasons as to why you are, but I want you Ryan. I want you to be mine. We're already exclusive in the bedroom, and we already tell each other personal things so why not?" Brendon said.

Ryan swallowed hard. "Bren I- my career, I'm not-," He stuttered and the younger boy interrupted, "yeah, yeah I know. You're not gay. I'm not saying you are gay, maybe you're just Brendoncurious," he laughed at his own joke, "but I know we have something, and can't we just take the risk? Even if we don't work out, at least we'll have the memories. You can trust me, I won't tell anyone. It's not just your career it's mine as well."

Ryan thought this over in his head and he hated how Brendon always managed to make everything sound so harmless. Like he could just agree and the world wouldn't stop turning. In a way that was true, he could say yes and get in this relationship and he would screw it up, but not the first hour, not the first day. The world wouldn't stop turning immediately, but one day it would. Decisions always turned into mistakes with him.

Brendon touched his face, "Ryan, I know you're letting your depression take over now. I can tell from your breathing you're thinking about how the world is grey and all colour will drain away. Don't. I'm not going to leave unless you give me a reason to."

Ryan bit his lower lip, cursing under his breath as he inhaled a shaky breath, "yeah you got me." Brendon hummed and kissed his jaw, slowly working down until he could turn his face and kiss his lips, "don't be scared. Let me fix you Ryan, I know I can." Ryan was never one for romance and Brendon's words sounded ridiculous, but somehow he couldn't stop them from getting to him. "You don't know that, I could ruin you. Brendon I'm not good for you. I'm not the guy you should settle down with. You're such a good person you deserve a guy that brings you breakfast in bed and kisses you in public without being scared of people judging him. Someone who is proud to be yours and wants to show you off to the world."

Brendon pressed his nose against Ryan's cheek. His fingers trailed his collarbone and his voice seemed impossibly sad as he spoke, "I had all that, and it didn't make me as happy as I am now. Yeah we fight, we can't go public but then I see you on that stage and my heart skips a beat. I see you smoking and drinking and I want to stop you because you'll ruin yourself and I care. I see you bring out a blanket and throw it over my shoulders as you walk me down the road and help me overcome my fears. I see that part of you that no one else seems to notice and it's breathtaking every time again. The way you can lose yourself in a song and how you don't let anyone pull you around. I admire that in y- Ry are you okay?"

Ryan tasted the iron in his blood and only noticed the tears when Brendon wiped them away. He was such a baby, crying at this, but he had never before in his life heard anyone talk about him that way. Not his father, not his band mates and not even his fans. Brendon saw right through him and that thought was still so scary it made him want to crawl away into a hole far, far away, but there was something different there now. He let Brendon take care of him and he didn't speak until the boy had his face tucked against his shoulder again.

"No one's ever said that about me," He said and Brendon kissed his skin, "well, it's true."

"Yes," Ryan stumbled, voice a little too loud and he balled his hands into fists in anticipation.

"Yes what?" Brendon asked, genuinely confused as to what Ryan was referring to. "Yes I'll be your- we can be-," He couldn't get the right words out and Brendon laughed quietly, the sound making Ryan nearly blush. "my boyfriend?" He asked and Ryan made a confirming sound.

Brendon rolled on top of him, cupping his face, "Ryan Ross, you won't regret this." His boyfriend kissed him harshly, their lips near bruising as they pressed together and Ryan felt Brendon's fingers softly massaging his skull. He relaxed, became pliant underneath his touch and part of him thought he was still dreaming, but kissing didn't feel this good in dreams.

He lifted his hands and placed them on Brendon's waist, careful not to make a sound as they kept kissing until they both seemed to get tired. His boyfriend pressed their foreheads together, "mine now, all mine."

Ryan pushed his fear away and smiled into the darkness, pulling Brendon down against him. It was a small bunk and they barely fit, but he didn't want Brendon to leave right then. They'd figure it out in the morning. They'd figure it all out one step at a time and then maybe Ryan could learn how to love Brendon like a good boyfriend. Maybe one day he could be that guy that wakes him up with breakfast and kisses him in public. And even if one day they would break up, Ryan figured that Brendon was right when he said it wasn't just what was at the end of the finish line, it was about the path that led there.

-

It had become a habit for Brendon and Ryan to sneak away as soon as they got to the hotel, always with some excuse. "I have to work on my portfolio for school," Brendon had said, eyes on Ryan with a meaningful look and Ryan had followed five minutes later with the excuse of, "I have a headache, maybe I should drink less."

Brendon was waiting for him when he got to the right floor, grinning madly, "well hello stranger, are you following me?" "Thought you wanted me to," Ryan said, wondering if he had misunderstood. Brendon shrugged, "well then maybe I should invite you in," he said, pulling on Ryan's tie as he dragged him along. Ryan rolled his eyes at his comment, but he did follow.

Brendon kissed him as soon as the door closed behind them and Ryan let himself be pushed back against the wood. They kissed harshly for a while, standing there against the door, until Brendon tried to lift Ryan up. "You look so light but you're anything but a feather," Brendon said and Ryan's smile slowly faded.

Feather. Heather.

All of a sudden his thoughts were on his daughter, what would she say if she saw her father kissing another man. Would she be disgusted? Maybe her generation will be more acceptant of different sexualities.

Brendon dropped him on the bed and leaned in to kiss him more, but Ryan couldn't focus and it only took Brendon a few seconds to figure this out. "Okay what happened? Do you have weight issues because that totally was a joke alright," He said, looking down into Ryan's eyes. He shook his head though and pushed at Brendon's shoulders until he could sit up, "no, I love my body. I just- you reminded me of something. Maybe I should go."

He wanted to get up and leave but Brendon pulled on his arm and made him fall back down again, "don't- please Ryan. This is what I meant in my drunken state; you don't tell me stuff. I know for me it's easy to drop my shit on someone else, and for you it probably isn't, but I'm your boyfriend now. You can talk to me Ryan, I won't tell anyone and I'll try to help. I see right through you anyway."

Ryan felt his anger flare a bit at the last sentence, knowing that even if he didn't want it Brendon was right. The boy saw right through him like he was a book he could simply open and read in without permission.

Ryan bit his lip, thinking it over, especially the consequences, the positive and negative sides of telling him. Brendon would know and he could tell the press, but then again they wouldn't believe it without proof and Ryan didn't even have proof himself. "Alright, fine I'll tell you," He told Brendon, who immediately sat down on the bed with his legs crossed beneath him.

Ryan chuckled, climbing up on the bed and straightening his tie before he leaned back against the wall, "okay so you remember Jac right? Pink hair, beautiful and small-," Brendon narrowed his eyes, "- I guess that's a yes, well she was here for a reason. She came to tell me something very important and it scared me. I'm still scared," Ryan explained to Brendon, who gradually started to look very pale. "Brendon are you okay?" Brendon blinked a few times before he slowly stuttered, "do you have an STD? Do I need to get checked? Ryan for fucks sake you better not lie to me." Ryan gaped at him and he couldn't help but laugh. He laughed until there were tears in his eyes and he wiped them away as he stared at a very frustrated Brendon. "No, that was my first thought as well but no, we're good babe," He laughed, and Brendon calmed down a little.

He shuffled a little closer to Ryan as the older tried to catch his breath. He looked at Brendon, his soft smile and careful eyes as he waited for him to go on. The words were in his head, screaming at him 'I'm a father, I have a daughter!' But they wouldn't come out.

Brendon took Ryan's hand, flexing all his fingers before pressing their palms together. Brendon's fingers were shorter but thicker and Ryan wondered what- he cleared his throat, "I- it turns out that I-," Brendon didn't push him, but his head resembled a question mark and Ryan sighed the words, "I'm a father. I have a one year old daughter living in Salt Lake City and I didn't know about her existence until last week."

He folded his face in his hands, closing his eyes. Saying it made it even more real than it felt at that time.

Brendon was silent for a long while before he asked, "are you going to visit her?" and Ryan sighed once again, "I don't know. I'm a fuck up Bren, I'm such a fuck up and I'm scared I'll go there and the moment she sees me she'll cry because she knows I'm a fuck up."

Brendon rubbed Ryan's back, "no she won’t, she’s a baby. You should go or you'll regret it Ryan." Ryan shook his head, "I won't. I don't regret running away from home, I don't regret not going to my dad's funeral and I won't regret not knowing my kid." "Yeah, you will. You will, Ry, just like one day you'll regret the rest. She's going to grow up not knowing who her father is. And if she did find out she'd have to spit through all the media to find out who you are and trust me, how they portray you, that's not how you want your daughter to see you, because it's not how you really are."

Ryan looked up into Brendon's warm eyes, looking at the way he was smiling at him, "you really think so?" and Brendon nodded. "Come with me?" He asked then, and Brendon didn't falter, didn't seem to need to think, "sure, if you want me there with you." Ryan looked back at his hands, "I'm just scared you know, I know depression is genetic and what if I fucked up so much I passed it on to her, because then I'd wish she had never been born. Rather that than be depressed for most of her life. I wish I could have made that choice."

Brendon hummed, "Pete informed me about that, yes, but I don't know much else. Since when have you been depressed, Ry?" "Since '69,'" Ryan replied, "I was seventeen when I was diagnosed with dysthymia. I went to see a therapist every week but that didn't help nearly as much as writing lyrics did and so I started a band. Lucky for me we made it big not even two years later. I was free, had my own medicine for depression and I thought I'd love the world a little more once I started travelling. It only got worse though, which is why I always like to come across as arrogant. It saves me the explanation." Ryan was surprised at how easily the words came, how Brendon made him feel comfortable enough to talk about the shit in his head.

Brendon brushed a hand through Ryan's hair, an act of sweetness that he wasn't used to but he let it go, "do you- are you suicidal as well?" his boyfriend asked and Ryan swallowed as he hung his head, "well- yeah. Not always, but it comes in waves."

"Okay," Brendon said, which was a wise thing to say because Ryan knew he'd reject any type of consolation whatsoever. Brendon was his boyfriend but that didn't mean Ryan would all of a sudden be a completely different person.

"So, this depression of yours, should I be worried?" Brendon asked then.

"I don't know," Ryan answered honestly, "the doctor said it could turn into a manic depression if I'm not careful. He says I should see a therapist but I don't want to. They don't keep their mouths shut. There's so much about me that I don't want the whole world to find out. Including this, so it's our secret, Brendon. The band knows and now you know, but that's it."

Brendon nodded, "please don't get mad, but I have one more question." Ryan hummed, encouraging him to go ahead and ask. "Have you ever tried to commit suicide?" Brendon asked and Ryan felt the air flow from his body as if he was a balloon.

He closed his eyes but it only made the pictures in his head stronger. His voice cracked, "yes," he breathed in, opened his eyes, "yes once." When it stayed silent Brendon coughed, "can you tell me about it?" his voice was unsure, like he was scared Ryan would get mad at him.

Ryan shrugged, lifting his arms up and placing his hands on his knees, "I overdosed on pills, such a chick way to kill yourself. Turns out the chance of failure for that type of suicide is higher than the actual success rate."

Brendon cringed at how easy it was for Ryan to just talk about success rates as if it was normal. He couldn't take it anymore. He turned Ryan towards him, surprising the boy as he leaned in to kiss him. "If you ever need to talk-," Brendon started and he didn't have to finish, knew better than to finish. It was enough for Ryan to still feel comfortable. His boyfriend's lips were soft and his hands trailed over his skin at an agonizingly slow pace. It made Ryan impatient and he eventually curled his fingers around Brendon's wrists, pulling his hands away and turning him so that he fell back on the bed as Ryan pushed him down. He climbed on top, quickly forgetting all about his confessions.

 

-

**August 1974**

"Ryan, I need a favour," Pete said and Ryan noticed how his manager looked as if he was about to say something that would get him very angry. "Brendon doesn't have a place to stay," Pete went on when he didn't get a reply and Ryan narrowed his eyes as he felt the question coming.

In a day they would have a two week break back in LA and of course Pete wouldn't pay for a hotel for the intern if he could find him another place to stay. "Why can't he stay with you?" Ryan asked and Pete sighed, obviously tired and needing the break as much as the rest did. "Meagan and I have some important things to discuss, plus I have a few important appointments. You'll hear more about that when I actually know more myself."

Ryan didn't know if he wanted Brendon home with him or not. Yes, it meant having sex and being with his boyfriend. It was normal for him to want that. In fact, if he really was a good boyfriend the thought of letting Brendon sleep out in the cold shouldn't even cross his mind. He knew on the other hand that letting Brendon into his home was another mile in their fucked up relationship and breaks were usually the only time for Ryan to fall apart. He didn't want Brendon there to see it happen. Imagine Brendon trying to fix him.

Spending two weeks together could possibly have Ryan falling for Brendon, like proper falling in love. And if he did then the consequences of Brendon leaving him after tour would be bigger than they should be. There should be no consequences at all, because Ryan knew to expect it. Yet his heart wasn't listening to his mind. "I'll think about it," was all Ryan could promise, and to Pete that was a yes. His manager smiled, "good," before he turned around and walked away.

Ryan swallowed his drink and turned to look at Brendon who was still over at the payphone where he had left him nearly ten minutes ago. Ryan got up from his stool and slowly walked over to his boyfriend, trying not to scare him. He was eavesdropping, he could admit that. He just wanted to know what Brendon was up to and he felt like he had the right because they were dating.

"I just need- no listen please. I don't get why there is a deadline, as long as I perfect it. I'm discovering so much now, I have to stay for the Europe tour, please arrange it," There was a silence as the person on the other end of the line replied. Brendon's hand clenched into a fist and Ryan wondered who he was talking to, probably someone from university. "I- yes everything is going great. It's getting worse though, Spencer, I'm so falling for him - yes I know I shouldn't put my future in the business over a relationship, but, but Spence he's so cute and he makes me so angry, in a good way, and I just don't know what to do."

Ryan took a step back, feeling the air being forced out of his lungs as he started to panic. This was bad. 'I'm so falling for him.' Brendon was falling for him and it made him want to run. No one before had fallen for him and Ryan had accepted that no one ever would, yet here Brendon was, ruining it all.

"Don't worry, I won't forget. We'll show the world the truth about this all," Brendon said then, more serious and Ryan frowned in confusion. "The truth about what?" He asked, slapping his hands over his mouth as Brendon turned in surprise. He got caught.

"Ryan, hey," His voice was soft and he said a quick, "I'll call you later," into the payphone before he hung up. Brendon looked like he just got caught as well and Ryan repeated his question, "the truth about what?" "That's private," Brendon said and he cleared his throat, "emh-how much did you hear?" Ryan laughed at the question, "enough."

"What are you- what are you going to do now?" Brendon asked, voice stuttering and Ryan hummed, "take you back to my place after the show and maybe let you fuck me."

Brendon seemed relieved and Ryan wondered if the boy had thought Ryan had heard something else instead. "Really?" He asked, giving him that look that got him everything he wanted. The lust, the flirty smile, the lip biting. Ryan licked his lips, "yeah. If you're really falling for me at least. I find it kind of cute." Brendon grinned but didn't kiss him like Ryan had expected him to, but then he remembered how they were in public.

"Come on, we have to go to the venue for sound check," Ryan said and Brendon nodded, quickly taking Ryan's hand and giving it a small squeeze before letting go again.

-

"Your house is cozy, but it's such a mess how can you find anything?" Brendon asked when he stepped into the living room of Ryan's apartment after the show. "I know where everything is. The remote is underneath that pillow there and there's a book somewhere among that pile of clothes," he pointed at the objects and Brendon chuckled, "you're incredible." "I know right," Ryan shrugged and dropped his bag on the couch so he could get out the laundry.

"You should unpack all you want washed because I'm not going to do it any other time than now. I'll be too lazy," Ryan said as he divided everything into piles. Brendon hummed and got to it as well.

They were silent for a while until Brendon cleared his throat, "so, where am I going to sleep?" Ryan stopped in his tracks, not having thought about this yet. His bed was just a little bigger than a single but he'd be a bad boyfriend if he made him sleep on the couch. They were dating, shouldn't this be the easiest decision to make.

"Emh," He said carefully and Brendon sighed audibly, "I'll take the couch." Ryan let it slip, nodding slightly like that was the best option.

They carried their laundry to the washing machine and Ryan followed the instructions on the wall, fumbling with buttons at which Brendon laughed and took over.

"You eh- you can sleep with me. In my bed, I mean," Ryan said once his boyfriend was done and the machine started to make loud, angry noises. Brendon cocked an eyebrow, "you sure Ross? Because it took you awfully long to make that decision." Ryan worried on his lip, "you know I'm not good with this stuff, damn it, just tell me what you want." Brendon looked at him for a long time. So long that Ryan didn't know what was going to happen. Brendon opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Instead of talking he pressed Ryan up against the washing machine. Ryan could feel it vibrating beneath him. They kissed hotly and Ryan felt himself grow hard as Brendon kept biting at his lower lip.

"I want you," The boy said between kisses, frantically pulling on Ryan's hair as his hips crashed against Ryan's time and time again. "Then take me," He replied and he didn't think about what he was saying and what it meant, and he didn't think about how he would feel in the morning and how this was degrading in a way. Brendon's hands reached down, cupping his ass and squeezing a little and it made Ryan feel like a chick but in a good way nonetheless.

"Do you have stuff in your room or should we make a stop at our bags?" Brendon asked as he nipped at Ryan's neck. "No I have stuff, who do you think I am, Brendon," Ryan chuckled. Brendon lifted him up and Ryan yelped, "fuck. Fuck you, I'm not a chick even though, yes, I will bottom tonight. Let me down, you ass," Brendon didn't let him go though, and he was way stronger than Ryan was.

He got dropped down on his bed and he stared as Brendon unbuckled his belt and easily got it out of his jeans. "You look so good like this," His boyfriend said as he rid himself of his clothes and Ryan snapped out of it and pulled on his shirt as well. Brendon crawled on top as soon as he was naked, slapping Ryan's hands away, "no, let me do it." Brendon's hands were experts and he easily got Ryan out of his jeans without him having to get up.

"Do you want to get on your hands and knees?" Brendon asked as he shuffled closer, leaning his body over Ryan's so they were aligned. Their cocks brushed together and Ryan let out a tiny moan at the friction, "I'm not a dog." Brendon sighed a little, "okay just roll over then, I promise you it hurts less than on your back." Ryan swallowed his fear away and turned over, pushing the pillows up, out of his way, so he could rest his head on the mattress. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about anything. This would feel just as good as the sex he was used to once he would get over the pain. Maybe he should have gotten drunk first, that would stop the thoughts and relieve the pain.

Too late now.

Brendon moved away, leaving him feeling cold and exposed. He was back after a minute of going through Ryan's bedside table to find the lube. "Okay no matter what I do, it won't work if you don't relax," Brendon said and then he started to press kisses on Ryan's back, kissing down his spine until he reached his ass. He softly kneaded the skin and Ryan had trouble breathing. "There are so many tricks I want to try on you, but no, I'll leave that for next time."

Next time. It echoed in Ryan's head and he swallowed, he wasn't even sure if he wanted that yet. Brendon seemed to be positive that he would though.

What if he wasn't really gay? Surely he wouldn't enjoy it then. So this was a test and that was what scared Ryan the most about it all. He'd find out now if he was really into guys or not.

Brendon's hands were delicate, all soft caresses and careful touches and Ryan's eyes shot open when he heard the cap of the lube pop off. He tensed up again and Brendon hushed him, trailing a hand down Ryan's back as he waited for his boyfriend to relax again. Ryan took deep breaths. In through his nose and out through his mouth. The next thing he felt were Brendon's, now cool and slicked up, fingers probing at his entrance and he laughed quietly at the weird feeling. Brendon quickly pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscle the moment he laughed and his body involuntarily tensed again, clenching around Brendon's finger. His boyfriend didn't give up though, he moved his finger in circles, loosening the muscle a little before he started to push it in and out to let Ryan get used to the feeling. It felt weird, like his finger didn't belong there.

Brendon tried to add another then, but it failed a few times and Ryan desperately tried to relax and not kill the mood. The second finger eventually slipped in along with the first and Ryan blew out his breath. It stung and he wanted to tell Brendon to stop, but he also didn't want to be a wuss and back out of this. Brendon's free hand lifted his ass up a little so his fingers could push in deeper. He moved them in and out, sometimes scissoring them a little in order to stretch him enough.

The third finger hurt, even with all the lube he knew Brendon had used in order to make it less painful. Ryan respected the boy for always just taking it, even the times he was barely prepped.

Ryan was only half hard when Brendon pulled his fingers back out and he pressed a haste kiss to Ryan's lower back. His fingers trailed down the back inside of Ryan's thighs, kissing his skin and Ryan groaned in frustration, feeling empty and wanting Brendon's fingers back.

His boyfriend sat back on his heels and Ryan heard nothing for twelve agonizing long seconds. He counted them in his head. Then the cap was put back on the bottle of lube and all Ryan's thoughts drained away, "are you ready?" Brendon asked. "I- yes," He managed to stutter, his throat feeling thick and Brendon pulled on his hips, lifting his ass a little, "it will hurt at first, I'm sorry, but I promise it will get better." Ryan gritted his teeth a little in preparation, "just do it already."

He could feel Brendon's hips brush against his skin and Brendon's cock felt huge pressed against his entrance. It wasn't going to fit, there was no way in hell that it would- there was pressure and only a second later his muscles gave way.

Brendon was very careful, pushing in as slowly as he could and it was a turn on to think about how they were joined, how Brendon was buried deep inside of him, but the pain made that thought seem irrelevant. How could Brendon even take him when he was a few inches bigger than the younger boy. He curled his fingers in the pillow above him and bit the inside of his cheek to stop from screaming. It was pretty pathetic and Brendon kept making hushing sounds, as if he was a baby that had to stay silent. Brendon's hands massaged his back carefully and Ryan had to give him credit for the fact he wasn't just ignoring his pain. It takes willpower to stay calm when you've got your cock up a guy's ass, Ryan knew that much.

"Relax Ryan, let it go," Brendon said and Ryan focused on his breathing again, which helped. Brendon moved his hips, which in a way helped and at the same time made things worse. He started with a slow pace, holding on to Ryan's hips tightly, but slowly speeding up. The harder he went the better it felt, but it wasn't heaven and it couldn't be the reason Brendon always went so insane underneath him. Maybe he just wasn't gay, maybe that was the reason he didn't feel like this was going to make him come. He was about to say this to Brendon, lips already parted, when the younger boy changed the angle and smashed into him harshly, hitting something inside Ryan that left him shaking and moaning.

"Woah," He said breathlessly and he groaned, "please." He was begging, his ass pushing back on every thrust and Brendon seemed to understand. He kept hitting that spot inside of him and their moans mixed in the humid air.

He licked his lips, throat dry and he felt so hard it hurt. He rubbed himself against the sheets as Brendon lowered his chest against Ryan's back. He kissed the nape of Ryan's neck and breathed hotly against his ear, "you like it deep?" Ryan's reply was a series of short gasps for air as he pushed back sloppily. He was starting to lose it and his mind screamed 'gay, gay, gay' on every thrust but he let it talk. How could anyone not be gay if you could feel this?  
Their bodies felt hot against each other and Ryan's hands kept balling up the parts of the pillow he could reach. His breathing was laboured as his face was pressed against the mattress but he liked it, liked how he had to gasp for air time and time again as Brendon pounded into him. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the room and Brendon kept kissing his neck and shoulder until their bodies were shaking so much that he couldn't anymore. Brendon kept rolling his hips, hitting his prostate dead on with every thrust of his hips and Ryan kept pushing back until Brendon moaned and came in hot spurts inside of him, leaving his mark, and Ryan felt taken, like he was Brendon's now and that thought was strange.

Brendon pulled out, taking a second to catch his breath as Ryan lay there spent and so hard the muscles in his abdomen quivered at every bit of friction. Brendon turned him over and Ryan stared up at the ceiling as he blinked away the water in his eyes. Brendon's hands skated over his skin, down, down until they reached his thighs and his boyfriend brushed some hair out of his eyes before closing his lips around his aching hard cock. Ryan let out a relieved sound that turned into a dirty moan as Brendon started to suck softly. His fingers curled into the strands of hair that stood up and he pulled harshly, trying not to buck his hips into the air. It wouldn't take long. With Brendon's mouth and how turned on Ryan was, feeling his boyfriend's come dripping down the inside of his thighs.

Brendon swirled his tongue around the head and Ryan moaned as three fingers filled him up again, brushing over his prostate at the same time as Brendon's tongue pushed underneath the crown and he couldn't let out a warning. He could only try to breathe as he emptied himself in Brendon's mouth. The younger boy swallowed it all and Ryan pulled him up for a kiss, tasting himself on Brendon's tongue.

"You're so good. Seriously falling for you," Brendon said once they had parted for air. Ryan nearly blushed and so he pushed Brendon off of him and pulled the covers over their bodies, "shut up, Jackson." Brendon was grinning though, snuggling closer to Ryan, "come on, cuddle with me I know you want to." "You're an asshole," Ryan mumbled and Brendon pulled on his arm a little, "I just got you off, why are you being mean?" He looked up at his ceiling for a while, watching how the paint was cracking and letting go in the corners and how there was still some come dripping out of his ass and he sighed.

'Gay, gay, gay' His mind screamed.

"Well I feel degraded enough already so whatever, I will laugh at you for offering in the morning," Ryan warned before he rested his head against Brendon's shoulder and swung an arm over his waist. "Good boy," Brendon said and he kissed Ryan's head. Ryan didn't comment. "We should go visit your daughter before we leave for Europe.” Brendon said as Ryan closed his eyes. "Okay, whatever you say.”

“We have two weeks off now-“ "Now shut up you're ruining the mood," Ryan interrupted with a small smile and he could feel Brendon laughing. Honestly, maybe life wasn't so bad as a faggot.

-

"I can't do this, I want to go back," Ryan squealed as he looked at the small suburban house in front of them. Inside Jac was waiting for them together with her -no their- daughter.

Brendon stepped in front of him, "now don't chicken out Ryan, she's only a baby, she won't even be able to talk to you." Ryan nodded, watching as Brendon pulled off his scarf and unzipped Ryan's coat. "I'll be right next to you Ry, remember." He nodded and Brendon pushed him up to the door. He stared at the wood for a while before he knocked twice, loud and unsure. He counted in his head - one, two three, four- as he waited for the door to open - five, six, seven-. "Ryan, hi," Jac said and she hugged him, "come on in."

Brendon introduced himself properly when Ryan walked past her, "I'm sorry for last time, I was a bit impolite," Ryan heard as he hung up his coat and checked out the hallway. There was a small fence in front of the stairs to make it baby proof and Ryan swallowed and stared at it as if it would attack him. He only snapped out of it when Brendon touched his arm.

Jac looked at him expectantly and he said a blunt, "what?" "Do you want a drink?" She repeated and Ryan hummed, "yeah a whis-," Brendon hit him in the side and Ryan frowned, "-coffee please." She smiled and turned away. "Was that really necessary?" He whispered harshly as he rubbed his side and Brendon just smiled before pushing Ryan in the right direction again.

In the corner of the tiny living room was a crib and a small girl stood in it, holding on to the bars. She was mumbling things and Ryan stared at her as Brendon followed Jac to the kitchen.

He slowly walked up to the crib and kneeled down in front of Heather. She stared at him with her dark eyes and she laughed and reached out a hand to touch his face. Ryan smiled back at her, "hello little girl, you're not as scary as I thought you would be." Heather was a gorgeous girl. She had bouncy brown hair, a colour that didn't match his and he suspected was Jac's natural hair colour. She had wavy hair though, just like Ryan used to have, and he could definitely see how she was his daughter. Somehow it wasn't as scary now that he was so close to her.

He turned his head when he heard a cough and he saw Brendon standing close to them. "Jac asked if you still drink it black," He said as he grinned, probably having heard Ryan talking to his daughter. He nodded, "you know that though Jackson, you're my personal assistant." Heather laughed again and Ryan turned to look at her again. She had a pink ribbon in her hair with a small rose attached to it and she was wearing a matching pink dress with a white lace hem and small white socks. Definitely Jac's style.

"She really is a mix of us, I'm surprised no one has noticed she looks like you. Well, the few people that actually know we had a thing," Jac said as she walked in with coffee and handed Ryan a cup, "sit down, I'll get her out of the crib in a minute, let it sink in first."

He nodded and Brendon sat down next to him on the couch, close to Ryan but not too close for it to be noticeable. "She's starting to talk more now. Sometimes I play your records and she wiggles around in her crib as if she recognizes it," Jac said with a soft laugh. Ryan felt a little weird knowing that. He couldn't stop staring at Heather, and she stared back at him with her wide brown eyes. "She's stunning," Brendon said and Ryan couldn't help but say, "of course she is, she's my daughter." Jac grinned at this and Brendon sighed but smiled as well only seconds later. "She's very-uhm- cute," Ryan stuttered awkwardly and Jac put down her cup so she could get up.

She lifted Heather out of her crib and held her against her chest. Heather mumbled unintelligible things as she tucked her thumb into her mouth, her head sideways so she could look at Ryan. There was a never disappearing curiosity there in her brown eyes and Ryan couldn't help but smile. "She looks like you a lot," Jac said, "she's very rebellious already. Doesn't eat certain things and cries when she doesn't get what she wants."

When Jac walked up to him he cringed a little. Brendon took his cup of coffee and Ryan carefully wiped his hands on his jeans so they wouldn't be sweaty. He had no idea how to take over Heather, and Jac laughed as she placed their daughter in Ryan's arms. "Just hold her like this," she said and Ryan followed her instructions, holding his daughter maybe a little too tightly.

She stared up at him for a while before slowly lifting a tiny hand up to touch Ryan's face. Her fingers felt small and soft against his cheek and he laughed, in complete awe. When he looked up at his boyfriend Brendon looked proud and Ryan cocked an eyebrow, “what?” "You can be a softy." Ryan rolled his eyes, "oh shut up, you love kids I can tell." "What can I say, I grew up in a big family," Brendon sat a little closer, letting Heather curl her tiny fingers around one of his. Heather kicked her legs and smiled, a little line of drool down her chin. Ryan wiped it away carefully, not wanting to hurt her fragile body.

"When was she born?" He asked Jac who hummed, "25th of June 1973, 5:20am. It was a Wednesday." Ryan nodded, trying to remember the date even though he would probably forget again soon. Heather kept giggling and she unconsciously slapped Ryan's cheek, "I really don't understand how this is partly me. She's so pretty and sweet and everything that I'm not." Jac smiled, "you were a baby once too Ryan, I don't believe you were an evil baby that hurt other babies and smoked cigarettes all day long. You never know what she'll grow up to be." Ryan scrunched his nose, "don't ruin it Jac, I was just feeling glad for the fact she's not like her father." Jac shrugged, "well, I'm glad you're here and you're not running away."

Brendon nodded, "I agree, Ryan, and I know you found it very difficult to come here." Heather looked a lot calmer when Ryan looked down again and Jac said, "she'll probably fall asleep soon, she always does around this time." Heather's big brown eyes kept looking at him and he smiled at her, "go sleep you little angel." She smiled at his voice and Ryan cocked an eyebrow at Brendon in question before he cleared his throat and started singing, "close your eyes, dream alone when you arise you will be home." Ryan could feel his cheeks heat up a little, feeling out of place singing to a baby, but this was his daughter and he had the right to sing to her, didn't he?

Heather blinked, quickly starting to look sleepy as her eyes started to droop. Ryan could see her eyes moving behind closed lids as her small body relaxed in his arms. He kept singing though, until the song was over. The whole room was quiet then, looking at Heather who was either asleep or close to getting there. "Want to get her to bed?" Jac asked quietly and Ryan nodded, slowly lifting her up against him and she rested her head against his shoulder. Brendon followed them up and Ryan frowned a little as he entered Heather's room. It was bare apart from a closet and her crib. Jac pulled the blanket away and made space for Ryan to put her down. He lay her down in the crib carefully and then lifted the small duvet over her body as he tucked her in. It was a strange feeling to do so and he remembered his mom tucking him in when he was younger, before she left, and he stepped back so he wouldn't cry.

"You're lucky to have her Jac, I know I wouldn't be a good dad and I can't say I would have tried, but she's honestly a cute baby and I can see you as a mom," He said as he smiled at her. She pouted slightly and hurried forward to hug him tightly, "oh Ryan, you make me so sad." Ryan shook his head as he hugged her back, "no. You have a new guy and you'll have a family and you're lucky Jac. Don't go back to being a groupie, you deserve so much more." She smiled at him, looking a little emotional and it was something Ryan hadn't seen on her before.

"Listen to me, I'm going to send you money okay. I will send you some money so you can buy her toys and plush animals and all of that, and if you ever need more money then you know my address. I can't be there to raise her but I can help a little." Jac wanted to protest but Ryan hushed her, "no, listen to me. I want to do this okay? Just let me. You can send me pictures once every while and if she ever wants to meet me she can, but I won't be part of her life." Jac nodded then, "okay, yeah okay if that's what you want." "It is," Ryan said immediately and he looked back at the crib and at his daughter who was safe and asleep. "I think I have to go now, it's a lot to handle and I feel like I might break otherwise," He said honestly and Jac nodded. She knew about his issues, just like Brendon did.

"Okay, you can come over whenever you want to," She smiled and led them back downstairs. Ryan put on his coat with a whole new feeling that felt awfully much like pride. "Thank you," He told Jac once they were outside again and she leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, "take care of yourself Ryan." He nodded and turned back, following Brendon down the street, out of Heather's life again like he had never stepped in at all.

-

**September 1974**

"I hate planes. They never crash when I'm on one of them," Ryan said as he left the plane alongside Brendon. His boyfriend chuckled but didn't comment, knowing he was only half serious. "I can't wait until we get to walk around Paris, it will be so beautiful and I heard it snowed already. We have to go shopping, please tell me we're going shopping," Brendon rambled as they made their way to baggage claim. "Jesus Brendon calm down it's only Paris. I'll try to figure out a way so we can go, but maybe we should keep it a bit low profile. I have a feeling everyone is wondering why we hang out so much," Ryan said, not even looking at Brendon.

Brendon stopped walking and Ryan turned to look at him, waiting for him to start walking again, "oh." "Brendon I'm sorry I just- I don't want to ruin what we have and it will if they find out, so," Ryan explained and Brendon nodded, "it's okay, I guess I should have expected this. It's okay I'll go shopping with Spencer then, he will be here in a few hours." Ryan hummed, "alright then. I'm sorry. Look we could go shopping here? Right now. You have to wait here then anyway right?" Brendon nodded, "yeah, okay we can do that." One of the roadies took their suitcases once they had retrieved them and Ryan told him not to wait, he would find a way to get to the venue.

They walked closely, but not too close, as they made their way to the mall that was built inside the airport. Ryan got himself cigarettes and Brendon bought a pack as well. "Do you like Paris?" Brendon asked him and Ryan shrugged, "I did at first, but if you visit a place often enough it will lose its charm. Even Paris."

Brendon paid a baker some money and handed Ryan a croissant that he accepted. It was still warm and chocolate was dripping out, "but you'll love it here." "You think so?" He asked and Ryan nodded.

"Oh, souvenirs!" Brendon yelled and he ran to the other side of the path, zig zagging through the people that walked past and Ryan followed at a slower pace. When he finally got through the crowd and called out Brendon's name, his boyfriend turned his head and stared at him with a look full of lust. "Mon amour, je suis Français. Je porte un béret," Brendon said as he showed the beret on his head. It was a black one that suited him well and Ryan walked up to the man behind a small counter and slipped him some money. "Tu peux garder le béret," Ryan told Brendon and his boyfriend grinned, "merci beaucoup."

Ryan got himself some coloured glasses, the same style as John Lennon, who he hadn't seen in two years. Maybe he should visit the guy once he got to London, if John was actually in London then. Then he bought a pair of gloves for himself and a scarf for Brendon.

"Follow me," Brendon said and Ryan cocked an eyebrow but he did, quickly finding out where his boyfriend was taking him. The bathroom. They pushed together in one of the cubicles and Brendon kissed him as soon as the door was locked. His arms came up to curl around Ryan's neck and he hummed against Ryan's lips, "thank you for this." "No problem?" Ryan replied, not sure why Brendon was even thanking him.

"Spencer will be here soon, you should leave," Brendon said, their foreheads pressed together and Ryan chuckled, "okay, is he your secret lover?" "Oh shut up that's so wrong in so many ways," Brendon said before he pecked Ryan's lips again. "No hotel night until Amsterdam right? It's going to be a long wait," The younger boy said and Ryan nodded, "yeah, two nights. We could- after the show when most people are gone you could join me in the venue bathroom?" Brendon raised his eyebrows but didn't comment, "sure. Okay, I have to go now," he kissed Ryan again, "I'll see you at the venue."

Ryan left a few minutes after Brendon did, putting on his glasses so less people would recognize him. He hailed a cab and told the guy to bring him to the Louvre. He wasn't going to go in there, no way. It was boring and could be a potential fan hazard and so he planned on just walking around the gardens and write lyrics as he killed some time.

When it was late enough he hailed another cab that brought him to the venue. It was cold out and a long line of fans were waiting. One of their bodyguards was waiting at the back door though and he made sure the screaming girls wouldn't get to him. He waved and smiled, "have fun tonight, all of you," he said, making a girl up front faint. He rolled his eyes when he got inside, "they never fail to scare me." Zack smiled at him, "you're Ryan Ross, get used to it. Nicotine Dreams is like the American version of the Beatles. Trust me. Also, I bet the papers are going to write about how you're wearing Lennon glasses." Ryan huffed, "let them. John and I are friends."

"Ryan!" He heard and he turned with a smile, spotting Brendon on the other side of the hallway. Next to him was a guy with a scruffy beard and piercing blue eyes. "Spencer this is Ryan, Ryan this is Spencer," Brendon said, looking a little nervous as if Spencer was someone really important. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," Ryan said and he let Spencer shake his hand. He took off his glasses and Brendon smiled, "I'm going to show Spencer the bus now and then I'll join you here for the set list for tonight, okay?" Ryan nodded, "sure, I'll just wait here then vice-manager."

Ryan watched them go before he made his way to the changing room, which was empty. He guessed the band was still out discovering Paris. He didn't mind. He sat down on the small couch and waited for his boyfriend to return, which thankfully didn't take too long. Brendon was back within five minutes and he smiled, "I'm so glad Spencer is here, I haven't seen him since I started my internship." Ryan smiled back, unable to stop himself with how excited Brendon was and he reached out for his boyfriend, pulling him down on his lap.

"Ryan we can't," Brendon said as Ryan kept kissing his jaw and down his neck, "Ry- I'm serious. Spencer will come back in a few when he's done unpacking." Ryan sat back at that and wiped his lips, "okay, fine. Okay let's see then, the first song." He tried to compose himself a little again and he thought about what song was supposed to be first, "menace me, put that one first."

"Hey lovebirds," Spencer said as he walked into the dressing room and spotted Ryan and Brendon on the couch going over that night's set list. Ryan looked up to see Brendon's friend standing there, looking kind of smug. He felt the blood drain from his face and his stomach turn, "what did you just say?" Spencer's smile faded and he frowned in confusion, staying silent before he slowly repeated what he had said, "hello..lovebirds?" Ryan's hands balled into fists as he looked at Brendon, who looked just as confused as Spencer did. "You told him?" Ryan asked, voice raised as he stood up. There was no clear reason for the sudden anger he felt boiling inside of him. Brendon blinked and then slowly pulled on his wrist, "Ry, relax." "No, I won't relax! Brendon this whole fucking thing we have is supposed to be a secret. It will ruin our lives if anyone finds out and you- you just told him like there was nothing on the line?" Ryan yelled.

He rolled his shoulders and tried to get himself to be calm about this. To not make hasty decisions and just run away from his boyfriend. Brendon had been nothing but good to him and he shouldn't forget about that.

To his surprise his question didn't bring up Brendon's angry side. Instead he kept calm, "he's my best friend. He would never tell anyone." "You think he's still your best friend if he gets offered a thousand dollars for the information? Because friends turn into enemies when there's that much money involved," Ryan said to that. And it was true, it had happened to him countless times. Friends had betrayed him for money. It was one of the reasons he didn't trust anyone anymore.

Brendon looked a little guilty and Ryan turned to Spencer, who looked at him sheepishly. "I promise I won't tell anyone, I swear," he said and Ryan felt himself get impossibly angrier, "promises don't get me any fucking thing! Promises are there to be broken so don't you dare play me with your 'I promise'." He took a deep breath, "that's it. My career down the drain, and for what?!" he huffed. He watched Spencer step back, his eyes on Brendon's face, "I'll leave you two alone."

Ryan turned to watch his boyfriend who sat there with teary eyes and he finally realised what he had said. He knew the wise thing to do was apologise, but his anger was still much too present. "Are you fucking crying?" Ryan asked and Brendon got up as well, looking up into his eyes with that fierce fury Ryan knew too well. It was laced with tears this time and Brendon looked more beautiful than ever before.

"You're a monster Ryan Ross. I despise you yet I can't help but love you. And yeah I'm crying because - fuck this - you hurt me and I'm not afraid to stand here and admit that to you. You're a coward Ryan, I can read you like an open book but you're hiding from yourself. I thought we were opening up to each other, I thought there was something there but you're back to being the heartless bastard you were that made me nearly spill coffee on myself during my first day on the job."

Ryan ignored the stinging in his chest and bit back, "well what can I say, I'm a fuck up. You know what I can't believe? I can't believe I risked my career for someone I'm not even in love with." Brendon flinched, "you're a liar. Fuck you, Ryan, you're lying," more tears formed in Brendon's eyes, "you let me fuck you! Don't stand here and lie to my face because I know the truth."

Ryan couldn't stand Brendon's crying but he had to choose. He had to choose between Brendon or his career. Between love or money. He closed his eyes, "I don't know what made you think otherwise, but Brendon, I'm not in love with you. You were convenient and yeah I liked you but love is such a strong word." Brendon's eyes closed and Ryan could see his lips form the word 'were' , silently repeating him, knowing that they were done with.

Over.

It was over now, Ryan could breathe again. He'd sleep without a body pressed against him again. Alone and lonely but protected from pain because the only person that could hurt him was himself.

"I hate you so much right now," Brendon's voice was barely a whisper but it sent shivers down Ryan's spine. He needed to get away so he stepped away from Brendon, "I'm done." He turned away then, could hear Brendon heave a sob before he bit his lip to stop himself.  
Ryan slammed the door, pushed past staff members as he tried to reach the fire exit. He fumbled for his pack of cigarettes and lit one as soon as he was out in the air. The large door slammed close behind him and the voices in his head stopped screaming.

He got out without ruining himself. He got out of the situation before it would absolutely ruin his life, but his heart hurt. It hurt and he wished he hadn't gotten so used to Brendon. He wished he hadn't been able to trust the boy, but the truth was that he could. After all Brendon was a good guy and he deserved better than Ryan.

"Ryan! Ryan, please sign my ticket!" Ryan heard and he looked up to see some fans running his way. "I'm sorry I- ask again after the show. I'm not feeling too well right now," He said and even though his fans looked a little disappointed they let him walk away without following him. He didn't go back to the bus, knowing Brendon could find him there and so he walked down the street on his way to find a bar. Fuck being sober on stage, he needed alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've got to say Im just so happy with how this is coming together.   
> I apologise for taking half a month to update but I want to check everything and make sure what I update is the best I can do, and with workdays of 14 hours..   
> Thank you for reading though <3 I appreciate it


	4. Step 3: Cremate the coffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brendon,” Ryan begged him, but Brendon still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He placed his hands against Brendon’s cheeks and pulled his face closer, pressing their lips together. Brendon didn’t kiss him back, not the way he kissed back the guy at the club. Ryan broke the kiss and let out a deep breath, “so, you don’t want me anymore?” he asked.

 

**September 1974**

Brendon kept sending him sad looks whenever Ryan got out of his bunk. He tried not to get out but he was only human, he needed food. Then there was also the fact that Brendon was an intern and would be doing Pete's job which required him to talk to Ryan about band related things. They would always keep it professional, but the atmosphere was tense whenever they were near each other.

Spencer had stayed in Paris when they moved on and Ryan could hear Brendon crying in the bunk below his the night they left. He couldn't sleep at first and especially not after he had heard the soft sobbing sounds from the intern, his ex boyfriend, and it had kept him awake and thinking for most part of the night.

Ryan felt bad, he did, but he had made his decision. He had chosen the option where no feelings were involved. The option that would get him the most in the long run. He had gotten out before he had actually fallen in love. He had gotten out before Brendon would have ruined him completely and he shouldn't let the other boy's feelings get to him. His crying was supposed to leave him cold, like he didn't care, but he did. Of course he did. If he didn't care he would have never even gotten in a relationship in the first place.

It hurt to turn his back to the curtain and close his eyes, because it wasn't what he wanted to do. He wanted to have the guts to get out of his bunk and join Brendon in his, cuddling close and kissing it all better. He wasn't gay though. Homosexuality wasn't accepted anyway. He wasn't that type of person and the only guy he liked was Brendon.

Instead of doing what his heart was telling him to do, he let the bus carry them to Amsterdam where he could get stoned and drunk so he wouldn't have to think about this. He just had to survive the nights by himself.

-

"Ryan, I'm your manager I get to take your weed if I want to," Brendon argued and Ryan was too high to form proper arguments, "fuck you, no." Brendon rolled his eyes, "well sucks to be you then, this is the last you're getting. I swear, I'll follow you around all day if I have to." Ryan whined, "why do you have to be such a pain in the ass?" "Because you'll get a bad reputation if you're on stage too stoned to actually sing," Brendon said, anger clear in his voice. "I don't fucking care, the Rolling Stones do it all the time," Ryan yelled and Brendon stopped Ryan’s arm from swinging in his direction by holding on to his wrist. Ryan pulled it free immediately, "don't fucking touch me." "Then don't fucking make me," Brendon yelled before he stormed off, the bag of weed in his hands. Ryan felt angry, but he didn't go against Brendon's words. If he did, word would get out and Pete was strict. Pete would make him suffer for showing up on stage stoned.

When he decided to get off the bus, Brendon followed. At a safe distance, but he followed. Ryan walked down the street, wanting to enter the first bar he saw, but Brendon's hand covered his on the door, "drugs and alcohol don't mesh well, you know that Ryan." Ryan sighed, "whatever." He shook off Brendon's hand but didn't open the door like he had planned to before. Instead he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned away again. "Are you seriously going to follow me all day?" He asked once he noticed Brendon was still following him. "Yes," Brendon said, "it's my job."

Ryan stopped, causing Brendon to bump into him, and he balled his fists against his sides. "Why are you being so strict all of a sudden? Is it because we broke up?" He asked before he turned around to face Brendon. The boy didn't look surprised he got asked this, "No." "Sure," Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not _lying_ ," Brendon said. "If think that running after me will make me change my mind: I won't," Ryan went on and he could see that Brendon was trying to control himself, control his temper. "I don't love you and we are never getting back together. Deal with it, Brendon," He went on and this was what set Brendon off.

He pushed against Ryan's chest, making the singer stumble as he nearly fell. "What the fuck," Ryan said as he straightened himself again. "You're so arrogant I don't understand how I ever thought you were worth my attention," Brendon screamed, loud enough for others to hear, but luckily they were alone. "Listen to yourself. Worth your attention? You're not some God, Brendon." "Neither are you!" Brendon yelled, shoulders tense, "I don't live to love you," he said, voice dangerously low and calm. "Thank god you don't, that would be so pathetic," Ryan said and Brendon exploded, "If I'm so fucking pathetic, then why don't you just fire me?!" Ryan didn't have an answer to that, could barely keep in the 'fine you're fired!' he wanted to spit out. He was overreacting and he was reminded of how he still cared. Brendon didn't deserve to lose a shot at this job just because Ryan was a fuck up.

"Just go, I don't want to deal with this now. I promise I'll show up on time for sound check without being too far gone to play," He promised, but Brendon didn't give in. He looked at Ryan, unimpressed and unaffected, "no." "Fine, I'm going to call you my babysitter all day though," He said and Brendon smiled at this. It was a faint smile, but it was there. "I can deal with that," He said, waiting for Ryan to move on. The singer turned, walking on, and he didn't protest when Brendon walked next to him.

There was an awkward silence between them but Ryan didn't feel like breaking it. He walked down the streets, past the canals and the trams. He knew where he was going and he knew Brendon had no clue, which made it all the better.

As soon as they got near the red light district more trashy girls walked past them and one blew him a kiss as she smiled at him. "Want to take a ride?" Another asked as she leaned against a wall and Ryan smiled at her, "sorry, can't. I have a babysitter." Brendon knocked their shoulders together, but didn't speak until the girl was out of sight.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked quietly and Ryan shrugged. "The wallen," He said with an accent and Brendon frowned, "what is that supposed to mean?" "It's a Dutch word," Ryan said and that was that. Brendon wisely stopped asking and he just walked along.

As soon as the red lights started to pop up in the windowsills Brendon looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Ryan, are you taking me where I think you're taking me?" He asked and Ryan shrugged once again, "that depends on where you think I'm taking you, of course." "Emh, the red light district?" Brendon asked and Ryan simply smiled, "bingo." "What-" Brendon sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected Ryan to do something like that, "you know I'm gay right?" "Oh they have lady boys as well," Ryan replied to that, waiting for Brendon to get angry and storm off. His ex didn't fall for it though, "I'm not doing it, Ryan. Unless you're going there to get laid yourself we might as well just turn around now." "Come on Brendon don't be such a whiny little bitch," He said as he kept on walking. "What about a threesome, wouldn't you give everything to have sex with me one more time?" He asked and Brendon stopped walking, "I'm not desperate, Ryan." "Didn't say you are, but you want me, don't you?" He went on and Brendon huffed, "fuck this. I do, but not like this. I'd rather fuck a thousand other guys than have you force me," he stayed calm, which frustrated Ryan even more than his anger. "You know what, just fuck someone else tonight, I don't give a shit anymore. Watch me care, Jackson, watch me care." "Fine, I will," Brendon said and Ryan expected him to walk off then, but he didn't. He kept walking, close to Ryan, without saying a word.

He saw the smile on his ex's face when he turned a corner, led them away from the direction they were going in. Ryan refused to think of it as losing.

Brendon did follow him all day, and Ryan kept calling him his babysitter everywhere they went. In the restaurant where they had lunch, in the music store where they had spent two hours straight just jamming out and buying new strings for Ryan's guitars. Brendon stuck by his side until they got back to the venue for sound check.

"Bye, Ross," Brendon said, voice cold as he took the map one of the roadies handed him. Ryan shrugged and didn't reply as he walked off to the stage where the rest of his band was waiting already.

He felt content standing on stage, jamming on his guitar and he turned, laughing in his drugged out state, "guys, we need to jam more often, we never do that anymore. It's all so serious now we made it," he slurred a little. William cocked an eyebrow, "Ryan are you okay? I haven't seen you this happy in a while." Ryan turned to look at his band mate, "oh, William, don't you know that Amsterdam has the best weed in the world?" William didn't reply and the rest of the band looked concerned.

"Ryan," Patrick said as he took a step forward, "we need to talk to you." Ryan strummed an A minor, "okay, well go on then?" Patrick seemed to be in doubt if it was the right moment to talk to him. His shoulders slumped and he sighed loudly, "Ryan this has to stop. You getting drunk and high all the time, it's not good for our reputation." "Everyone keeps saying that, but no one's got proof that it's actually bad for our reputation," Ryan replied, strumming another A minor. Alex handed him a magazine with a picture of Ryan on the front page.

"''Too much sex, drugs and rock and roll'? Are they being serious? How can you have too much sex, drugs and rock and roll?" Ryan said, mocking the headline. Patrick walked up to him, looking disappointed, "Ryan, you're a role model. Kids look up to us. They want to be us and it's going to influence them too when they see you on stage, too drunk to properly greet them. But our reputation as a band isn't even that important. We're worried about you. It seems like- like you're going downhill." Ryan stared at his best friend, "what? You think I can't take care of myself? Do you think I don't know my own limits? Because I do." He couldn't believe that Patrick didn't trust him, that they were all against him. They were no angels themselves. There was no rock and roll without the sex and the drugs.

"We're thinking maybe you should see a therapist. I know something is going on in that head of yours, Ryan. I've known you long enough to see that something is wrong," Patrick said. Ryan stared at him, trying to process the words. Trying to understand if Patrick was really doing this to him. He was supposed to be his best friend. "I'm not going to get a therapist, Patrick. Fuck you all, nothing's wrong with me!" He yelled as he took another step back. His happiness had faded and the drugs were clouding his mind, making him see the conversation in a different light.

"You know what, if you think I'm so fucked up then maybe we shouldn't talk anymore." "Ryan, stop being so insane," Patrick said but Ryan shook his head, "no, I get it. You're disappointed in me. Well, fine, but I want space. We can talk when it's about the band, I'll ignore all of you in any other case," Ryan said before he turned and walked away. He handed his guitar to one of the roadies and made his way up the stairs.

He found an empty office and closed the door behind him before getting out his pack of cigarettes. He knew he shouldn't smoke indoors, but he didn't care. He sat on the desk, face towards the window where he could see the long queue of your girls and boys right outside, waiting for their show. Waiting for him. He rested his head on his hand, taking a deep drag that he blew out slowly. He was alone. First the shit with Brendon, that had led to them not talking, and now his band did the same thing. The realisation that he had no one to talk to made it hurt even more. It had been his own choice, but it was the right choice. It didn't make it any easier though. He had chosen the band over Brendon, and now the band was close to falling apart. Nothing new under the sun there. His life had been nothing but a long line of mistakes flowing into new mistakes. He'd fucked up as a son, fucked up as a father, fucked up as a boyfriend and now he fucked up as a band mate.

He lit the second cigarette only a few minutes after the first, taking long drags and filling his lungs to the max with smoke. He would show them he could take care of himself. He might be stoned but he would give these kids the best show ever. He got up from the desk and opened the window, screaming loud and clear, "Hey, I fucking love you guys! Rock and Roll, baby!" A hundred heads turned to look at him and they yelled back, girls screamed and a few guys clapped for him. Ryan bowed, almost falling out of the window before he waved and closed the window again.

The door opened behind him, showing a confused Brendon, "was that you screaming at the crowd?" Ryan raised his hand, balled in a fist and he slowly raised his middle finger as he took another drag. Brendon looked at a loss for words and Ryan grinned. "Jesus christ, Ryan, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Brendon asked and he stomped over and slapped Ryan's hand away, holding on to his wrist. Brendon's hands were warm and Ryan closed his eyes, "I'm living the dream, mister Jackson," he said.

"Fuck, how strong was that weed you took?" Brendon asked, frowning as he pushed Ryan against the desk. "Not even that strong," Ryan said honestly, "I'm just feeling carefree for once. Let me, okay." Brendon stood in front of him with his hands placed on his hips, "I really don't fucking get you, Ry." Ryan looked at Brendon's face, down to his neck and body. He missed the boy, missed tasting him and feeling their skin stick together. He missed his boyfriend. He reached out his hands, pulling Brendon closer by the hips until he stood between his legs.

"Ry, what are you doing?" Brendon asked as Ryan moved his hands down Brendon's back, resting them on the boy's ass. He pressed his nose against Brendon's collarbone and his ex didn't move, let him touch. "I miss having sex with you, I want your body, please," Ryan begged, lifting his head up and pressing their lips together messily.

Brendon took a step back then, pushing Ryan's arms away, "don't." There was a finality to the word that made it Ryan didn't push it. He let Brendon step away from him. "I expect you down in half an hour or else I'll have security come get you. You have a show to play," Brendon said in his bossy tone. "Yes, sir," Ryan replied as he lifted his hand to salute him, "as you please."

The show wasn't as shitty as he had expected it would be. He faked a smile and overdid the acting between songs and before he knew it they walked off, ready for the encore. He turned his back to his band, downing a whole bottle of water to sober up a little. He couldn't wait to get drunk after the show. He couldn't wait to find himself some hot chicks and take them back to the hotel. But he had to deal with three more songs.

"Amsterdam baby! You're looking downright fuckable tonight. I love you, this one's for the city." He sang the songs without thinking about it, on autopilot as he thought about how to spend the night. The applause they got made his ears ring and he smiled, bowed and ran off stage. He was the first one to get to the changing room and he didn't plan on staying there for long.

He needed to get out.

-

It was filthy, shameless and downright impolite. The grinding of their hips, their hands touching burning skin as the crowd pushed them closer together.

Brendon's sinful lips were pressed against someone else's neck. Ryan could see him flick his tongue over the skin to taste. He always used to do that to Ryan.

The guy was taller than him, had messy brown hair - the kind of brown that looked like nothing special at all - and wore skintight silver pants with a black blouse of which the top part was unbuttoned dangerously low. Ryan hated to admit that he was actually quite handsome. However, it didn't change the fact that Brendon, _his_ Brendon, was shamelessly pressing their hips together. It almost looked desperate. Ryan wanted to kill the guy.

"Hey Ry, you haven't taken a girl back to the hotel in forever man, why?" Alex asked, yelling it in his ear over the music and Ryan forced himself to look away from Brendon. He shrugged, "I don't know, not really in the mood I guess. I'm kind of done with fucking around," he yelled back. Alex cocked an eyebrow at him and he didn't even have to speak, the gesture said enough. "No, I'm not kidding," Ryan yelled. Alex leaned in and spoke directly in his ear, "or is there someone special?" Ryan immediately shook his head which made Alex stare at him.

"Ry, this girl has been checking you out for half an hour now, your choice man," Alex said then, making sure Ryan spotted the girl near the bar who was, indeed, obviously staring at them. Ryan turned his attention back to Alex and mouthed 'thanks'. Luckily it was enough to get Alex to back off again.

Ryan wondered what his friend would have done if he had said that there was a special someone. Or if he had added that that special someone was dancing on the dance floor with someone else.

Ryan turned his head back to focus on Brendon again, but he wished he hadn't done so. Brendon's arms were wrapped around taller guy's neck and their lips were locked. Their kissing was as desperate as their grinding and Ryan didn't know who of the two he hated more. Tall guy's hand was pressed against Brendon's lower back, getting them even closer together and if Ryan didn't know better he would think they were going to have sex right there on the dance floor.

Brendon was wise enough to break free then and Ryan silently prayed his ex would walk away and be done with it. Instead he smiled shyly, pushed some hair behind his ear and bit his lip. Ryan felt his blood cooking inside of his body. The whole seduction trick he had used on Ryan was now used on this useless guy. Apparently this boring brown haired guy deserved the same lustful looks as Ryan and it stung. He wanted to get up and pull them apart, but he had no right to do so.

It was his own fault anyway. He had said Brendon should just fuck someone else tonight, He had pushed Brendon to prove himself. To prove he wasn't bound to Ryan. It was working. Like a charm.

Brendon got a pen out of his back pocket, probably still there from work, and took the guy's hand. He wrote down something on the inside of the guy's wrist before he put the pen back and smiled. Brendon had to tiptoe to reach tall guy's ear and Ryan could see his lips move. Tall guy nodded and wrapped his arm around Brendon's waist and pulled him along. They disappeared through the crowd and Ryan turned back to his glass, wanting another refill already.

So what Brendon had scored himself someone for the night? Good for him. Ryan should be happy to see him moving on so quickly.

He wasn't happy though.

He downed his drink and got up, signing to the rest that he was going to get another drink.

Instead of going back to the band he spent a while sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. He wasn't upset over Brendon having found someone new. He was only upset that apparently he hadn't meant anything to Brendon. His ex had said he loved him, had cried when Ryan broke up with him, but here they were only days later and Brendon had someone else to take care of his needs. It wasn't logical. Ryan had tried to cover up what he felt while Brendon had been honest. Yet Brendon was the one to fuck around and Ryan had no interest in having sex with anyone else.

By the time he finally got back to their booth half of the band had disappeared. "Alex found some girl and Patrick, well I don't know where Patrick went," William said as Ryan fell down next to him.

Ryan dropped his head on William's shoulder. "I made another mistake, Will," Ryan replied and William sighed, "you're probably overreacting again as usual. Unless you quit the band, then indeed you made a mistake." Ryan grinned, "no, never, no." He would never quit, it was the reason he had broken up with Brendon. It was the reason he made this damn mistake.

"If that's not it, then you're probably overreacting. Or is it a mistake you really can't fix?" William asked as he took Ryan's empty glass and put it down on the table. Ryan thought about his question, felt the sudden need to try and fix it, "I don't know. I don't know if I should fix it." "If you say it's a mistake then I think that means you wish you hadn't done it, otherwise it wouldn't be a mistake," William sounded a little confused as he spoke, but his words actually made sense.

Ryan sat up again and looked at William. He smiled and pulled his friend in a quick hug, "you're the best, Will." Ryan scrambled out of the booth, leaving a very startled William behind. He would apologise in the morning, if he wasn't too busy having make up sex with Brendon. That was, if he hadn't fucked up so badly that their problems couldn't be fixed.

He took a cab to the hotel and of course it felt like the drive took forever. It was especially annoying whenever he thought of Brendon and that boring brown god in bed together. He had to hurry, had to make sure he wasn't too late. He didn't wait for change, ran across the street in a frenzy and even took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He didn't stop until he had reached the door to Brendon's room.

He wasn't thinking clearly. He knew he wasn't. He was probably more than a little drunk and he should just walk on. "Keep on walking down the hallway until you reach your room," he told himself, but his feet stopped anyway. He pressed up against the door, placing his ear against the wood as he tried to listen to what was going on inside. He didn't hear anything. No moaning, no screaming of names, nothing.

He knew he should walk on for his own sake, but his feet didn't allow him to move. He was breathing heavily, had rushed to get there in time and now he was standing there, too scared to knock. He only realised then that Brendon might not even open the door. "Fuck," He whispered, knowing that if the door wouldn't open he was too late.

He knocked with both hands, slamming them against the door so Brendon would hear for sure, and then he waited. He stood there trying to count the seconds as they passed, but he was too out of it to count. Brendon wasn't going to open the door.

A lock clicked and the door opened just a tad, a slice of Brendon's face visible. He couldn't see if Brendon was naked, couldn't see if he had interrupted anything. Brendon's eye blinked, "Ryan? What are you doing here?" he asked and Ryan felt how his body relaxed and he could move again. He pushed against the door, making Brendon tumble back and he stepped into the room, threw the door shut behind him.

"I take it back, I take- you can't, Brendon you can't-" Ryan blurted as he looked at Brendon. His shirt was gone and his jeans were unbuttoned. It hurt. The dagger in Ryan's heart twisted, sending new waves of pain through his body. He turned to the room, looked at Brendon's bed and found it was empty.

"Where is he?" He yelled, pointing a finger at Brendon accusingly before he stumbled over to the bathroom, throwing open the door. Empty. He looked around the room for other possible hiding spots. He checked the closet before he fell to his knees and looked under the bed. Nothing.

"Ryan, what are you doing?" Brendon asked as he watched with big eyes while Ryan walked around the room. "Where is he, Bren? And don't fucking play me because I saw you two leave together!" He yelled, checking under the pillows on the bed. He held one of them above his head and then lowered it, realising he was being ridiculous.

"I didn't bring him to the hotel, Ryan," Brendon said, placing the pillows back on the bed again. Ryan stared at him, "you didn't?" Brendon shook his head, "no, I had schoolwork to do," he pointed at the desk. Ryan didn't reply. He sat down on the bed and stared at his hands. "Why are you here, Ryan?" Brendon asked and Ryan knew. He knew why he was there, yet saying it would make it real.

He had to say it.

"I miss you," His voice was barely a whisper, but he had said it. It was out and he could breathe again. Brendon knew now and he could do what he wanted with the information.

Silence fell over them and Brendon crossed his arms in front of him, “you’re the one who broke up with me.” Ryan sighed, “I know, and I’m sorry. I overreacted, William said so, but it feels like a mistake and if it feels like a mistake I have to fix it.”

“You told William?” Brendon asked, eyes wide and maybe a little hopeful that Ryan had changed his mind and people were allowed to know now. “No,” Ryan said, having to disappoint him, “I just told him I made a mistake and he said I was probably overreacting again and I am, Bren. I am overreacting.”

“Are you really?” Brendon asked him quietly and Ryan closed his eyes, “I’m not happy that Spencer knows, but if you trust him then I should trust him too. I know that if I were to tell Patrick you wouldn’t freak out.” Brendon nodded, “okay then, what do you want me to say?”

Ryan looked up at his ex, feeling a little confused. Wasn’t he being clear enough or did Brendon do this on purpose. “I want you to tell me you take me back,” He whispered, the confusion clear in his voice and Brendon dropped his arms next to his body.

“You- what? Seriously?” Brendon asked, voice devoid of emotion. Ryan didn’t know what he meant with it. “Yes?” He replied and Brendon huffed, “are you fucking bipolar?” It felt like Ryan just got smashed in the face, “why is that even relevant?” he asked, voice pained. He knew he was a fucked up person, but he wasn’t bipolar. He wasn’t a complete mess.

“No, I’m not taking you back. It’s not that easy, Ryan,” Brendon replied, shaking his head, and Ryan felt his heart sink. He crawled up and stepped in front of Brendon, trying to look into his eyes, but Brendon wouldn’t meet his gaze. This wasn’t easy for him to say then. Good.

“Brendon,” Ryan begged him, but Brendon still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He placed his hands against Brendon’s cheeks and pulled his face closer, pressing their lips together. Brendon didn’t kiss him back, not the way he kissed back the guy at the club. Ryan broke the kiss and let out a deep breath, “so, you don’t want me anymore?” he asked.

He could hear Brendon breathing, but the guy didn’t reply. Ryan kissed him again, pulling his body closer and Brendon didn’t struggle, went limp in his arms, but he didn’t kiss him back.

Ryan wanted to cry.

“You can’t have stopped loving me. You can’t. It’s not fair, Brendon. I’m trying,” He bit at Brendon’s lips and received a pained whine, “I’m trying so hard, you know that.”

Ryan was about ready to give up. To give up on Brendon and leave, let him be. But then Brendon was kissing him back. One of his hands came up to hold Ryan against him and Ryan’s heart starting beating again.

“I hate you,” Brendon whispered against his lips as he pushed Ryan back against the bed. Ryan’s legs hit the side and he tumbled backwards onto the mattress. Brendon stared down at him, “we’re not okay just yet, but I’m willing to forgive you. If you convince me you mean this when you’ve sobered up too.”

Ryan nodded and took Brendon’s hand as he climbed onto the bed and leaned down over Ryan’s body. “Jealousy looks good on you though, it’s a real turn on,” Brendon whispered into his ear before he sealed their lips together again.

-

It was early morning when Ryan got out of bed, unable to sleep. Sunlight seeped through the curtains and Ryan took a moment to look at Brendon. His skin looked warm in the soft glow of light and he smiled. What a catch.

He made his way over to the desk where Brendon's stuff was and sat down on the chair. He had interrupted the boy while he was working and Ryan smiled as he picked up the first paper of the large pile of notes.

_Name: George Ryan Ross III_   
_Date of birth: 30th of August 1952_   
_Son of a war veteran that died of alcohol poisoning in 1969. Mother left in 1963 because of family problems._   
_Possible alcoholic. Smokes. Drug use._   
_Has never been in an official relationship, more of a one night stand type._

If this was the paper Pete had given Brendon as a description of who Ryan was, then Pete knew him way too well. He put it down, expecting to find a similar paper about Patrick, William and Alex but they weren't there. It was just Ryan.

There were more pages filled with his information. About his depression, his consumption of alcohol and the girls he had slept with. There was an interview with the girl he took home the second night of tour and the ones later on. And they were all about him and their impression of him. There was even an interview with Jac and Ryan started to feel a little sick.

He had been in Pete’s office often enough and there had never been piles of paper with his information. Especially not this detailed. Was Brendon supposed to report back to Pete about him, because then his manager would surely know about their relationship.

There were pages about his father and even his mother, things he himself didn’t know. How they had met and when and where they had gotten married. They were all dated, numbered and signed with a signature that said 'Brendon Urie'. Had Brendon lied about his last name? It wasn't as if that never happened, but why would Brendon have to- his eye caught a name on one of the last pages.

Heather.

He frowned and put down the other papers he was holding, taking the one about his daughter so he could read it.

_When we got to the house, which is small and old, Ryan confessed he felt nervous. I pushed him forward as to help him in the right direction, and after that he managed to do it on his own. Jac opened the door for us and she looked like a tired mother in her late twenties. Her nails were painted the same colour pink as her hair and she smiled but she looked exhausted. Ryan didn’t seem to notice. I could see him staring at the baby toys in the corner and the fence in front of the stairs. His eyes were big and he looked frightened, but as soon as he walked into the living room I saw a change. He still looked scared, definitely, but there was curiosity as well, the want to know the baby girl standing in the box on the other side of the room. I helped Jac make coffee and left him to let it sink in. When I got back he was right in front of the box, talking to his daughter with a slightly shaky voice. "hello little girl, you're not as scary as I thought you would be." It was refreshing to see him happy. Heather laughed then, and Ryan's last bit of fear seemed to drain away along with the sound. He smiled back at her and they look alike. God do they look alike. That's when I interrupted-_

"Ryan?" Brendon asked, slight panic audible in his voice and Ryan turned his head to Brendon who was sitting up in bed with a pleading look on his face. Ryan stared at him and could feel something stabbing his heart: something was wrong.

"What is this?" He asked, his voice emotionless. Brendon got up and put on his underwear before walking over to Ryan slowly, "my work." Ryan frowned, something still stabbing in his heart and it made his walls come up. The anger he used to feel rose again as if it had never been gone. "Your work? This is your portfolio? A detailed description of my life and everything you saw me do? Interviews with girls I shared the bed with?" Ryan asked, voice hard an angry. "Yeah it is, well sort of, my portfolio," Brendon said as he slowly took the pages from Ryan's hands.

"Well it doesn't fucking look like it's about the band, it's like you're only focused on me and what manager would do that?!" He yelled. "That's because-" Brendon tried to think about a possible lie, but it showed on his face. Ryan could see clear as day that Brendon wanted to lie, that he was hiding something, and then it clicked. He felt the world shift and it made him feel sick, but he couldn't give in to that feeling until he knew the truth.

"You're not a manager," He stated, his left leg starting to tremble. The look on Brendon's face said nothing but 'you caught me' and the walls inside Ryan's head were shaking now, wobbling so hard they could collapse any second. It only took 6 words from Brendon to make them crumble, "no, I'm not. I'm a writer."

For a few seconds Ryan sat there emotionlessly, waiting for an earthquake or lightning that would strike him, but there was nothing.

He tried to reach for the papers but Brendon held them all close to his body and Ryan was too broken to fight. He got up, smashing his hand against the table and then against the wall, leaving a large dent in the cheap wallpaper. "Don't you- Fuck I don't care what you publish you can ruin my whole fucking life because it already is, but don't you fucking dare publish the parts about Heather because I swear I will find you and I will kill you,” Ryan’s voice trembled with anger and he was close to tears, Brendon knew, “congratulations, Brendon, you've just ruined me. You ruined me."

He fell backwards over the chair but crawled further away from Brendon anyway. He felt betrayed and disgusted at the thought of it, a book about him.

Brendon was crazy. They were all crazy.

"Why even, why are you doing this?!" He yelled, feeling his cheeks were wet but he kept screaming anyway. Brendon looked like he was sorry, like he wasn't the cause of all this in the first place, "I was angry. I didn't make it in the business and you seemed so ungrateful. I wanted to show the world what kind of person you really are. The kind of person I thought you were. The publisher paid me to do it, got me this internship and I have to publish the book. When I fell for you I couldn't go back. I'd have to break my contract and I wouldn't have enough money to support my family,” Brendon took a step closer then, his voice begging for Ryan to understand, “Ryan my dad has cancer and I need to help, I had no choice. I was going to leave out a lot of stuff you have to believe me."

Ryan shook his head in disbelieve, "when you fell for me? Liar. Fucking liar! All this time I had my doubts about trusting you because I knew I was going to get hurt, but you talked me into this. You said I wouldn't get hurt this soon." Brendon tried to reply but Ryan wouldn't let him, "no! You're sick and mean and I wish I never fell for you. It's bad enough being in love, but being in love with a guy is even worse. I never wanted to be a faggot yet here I am. Fuck you Brendon, you played me. I let you fuck me and still you played me."

He started to walk to the door but stopped halfway and turned back, "I might as well just kill myself. Don't be surprised if I do. And you know what, do whatever you want. Publish it, publish my pathetic life, but change the names of Jac and Heather. They finally have a life and I'd be damned if you take that away from them."

He opened the door of Brendon's room, hearing the boy's voice so much weaker than usual, "Ryan you can't leave, you're naked, please, please come in talk this through with me I don't want to lose you," He said and Ryan huffed, "should have thought about that a little earlier, Brendon _Urie_."

He walked outside completely naked, but he wasn't able to care. A bus could hit him and he still wouldn't care. Brendon, the boy he thought he could fall in love with, the boy he maybe was a little bit in love with, had screwed him over just as much as anyone else had done before. He had crawled beneath Ryan's skin and made himself at home for as long as he needed, sucking information so he could let go like some fulfilled tick.

The only difference with previous situations was that Ryan felt as if he wouldn't survive this one. It had been years since he last gave himself to someone the way he had given himself to Brendon, and it hurt more than ever to realize that it had been all play on Brendon's part.

He went back to his own room, getting dressed in his pajamas before he went over to Pete's.  
His excessive knocking made it that Pete opened the door with an annoyed expression that changed as soon as he saw Ryan. "What's going on?" He asked, immediately going into manager mode. "I- I want Brendon gone," Ryan said and he balled his hands into fists, "I want him gone now. He's not an intern Pete, he's a writer and he has used all his time with the band to write a book about my life and everyone in it. I want him gone."

Pete gaped at him and then walked up to Ryan to check his eyes, "what are you on? Are you drunk?" His manager asked and Ryan groaned, "no, god damnit! I'm serious Pete, he needs to go."

Pete nodded then, apparently understanding just how serious he was being now drugs and alcohol had been ruled out, "talk to me Ryan." He flopped down on the couch in his manager's room and started to cry again. "He- there's so much you don't know about me Pete, and he does and he will tell the whole world. I thought he- I thought we were friends and he just used me." Whenever he thought of it he felt a little more betrayed.

"Heartbreak," Pete said and Ryan hummed a, "yeah," before he realized what he had said. His head shot up but Pete only smiled, "I'm your manager Ryan, I know these kind of things." Ryan nodded, kind of feeling as if Pete was his mother. In a way that was true, because he didn't have a real mom and he would always come to Pete with problems. Pete always listened and he always understood.

"I have a kid, with Jac. Her name is Heather and she was born on the 25th of June 1973," Ryan was surprised that he remembered, "she's gorgeous and I can't- Pete all I want you to do is make sure Brendon doesn't publish the parts about her, and possibly the parts about Bren-don and me." Pete frowned, "Ryan I can make sure he doesn't publish the book at all."

Ryan shook his head, "no. I'll let him have his victory. I don't care much more anyway. I just don't want them to know about the mistake I made when I let him in and I don't want them to find Heather because she deserves a life. She deserves what I can't give her."

"I'll get him a plane ticket back home as soon as possible," His manager said as he started to go through papers, probably looking for phone numbers. "I'm just going to- I need some time to think Pete. Don't get worried if I won't show up for sound check, I'll be there for the show, I promise." Pete looked him down worriedly, but then he gave a single nod, "don't get too drunk."

Ryan didn't promise him anything.

When he left the room, already planning where he could go to drink his sorrow away - maybe a strip club- he stood face to face with his ex-boyfriend. Again. Brendon looked like he had been crying and he was carrying a suitcase and a shoulder bag. The beret they had bought together in Paris on his head and he looked at Ryan with pain in his eyes.

'It's your own fault', he wanted to say, but he loved the boy even now and so he walked by without saying a word. When he looked back Brendon still stood there in the middle of the hallway with his shoulders slumped, and Ryan let him go.

_And the men burned with lust for each other. Men did shameful things with other men, and as a result of this sin, they suffered within themselves the penalty they deserved._   
_Romans 1:18-32_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thank u thank u if you come back to read this. It means so much to me honestly.  
> Also this is the last chapter of part I. Part II and III are to follow, soon.  
> At least, part II, because I still have to finish the end of the fic.. although I'm getting there.  
> I will update soon with the new dates but you can expect the next part on my birthday, the 10th of August!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a still not completely finished fic that is already 80k words.  
> Important to know:  
> \- 1970s fic so yes in some ways things will resemble throam (ive come to realise)  
> \- The fact that the dates for part 2 & 3 are unknown doesnt mean it will take months for more to be uploaded. I just dont know for sure yet bc work and holiday  
> \- I AM NOT ENGLISH. I AM DUTCH. I APOLOGISE FOR ANY HORRIBLE MISTAKES IN THIS FIC
> 
> thank u


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